


King and Lionheart

by Sebastians_senpai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bottom Oikawa, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Medieval, Royalty, Samurai, Sengoku Era, Young Lovers, battles, bottom Iwaizumi, not slow burn lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 101,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebastians_senpai/pseuds/Sebastians_senpai
Summary: “I think that, as long as you are with me, I won’t fear anything.”Iwaizumi blushed, but found himself unable to look away from the sincerity in Oikawa’s warm brown eyes. He let out a shaky breath, fingers clutched in the fabric of Tooru’s tunic, his voice soft. “Then I guess, for the sake of the Kingdom, I will never leave you.”“Promise?” He asks, and it is fragile and quiet, hanging by a thread that could so easily be broken by Hajime, if he wished it.Iwaizumi gulped, but pressed their lips together again. “Promise.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 206





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This took a whole year to write, and I couldn't be more proud. I hope you all enjoy it! Now, as a quick rundown: not every team member belongs to the Kingdom of their team in the anime. For example, Suga and Daichi are in Seijoh kingdom. As well as this, the Japanese terms are interchangeable with the european- like empress and queen, solider and samurai, etc.  
> Enjoy!

Hajime’s mother, Iwaizumi Hitoka, was a slim woman with dark skin and frayed dark hair pulled into a loose bun at her neck and held in place with a plain comb. Her face was broad and angular, a feature which she had passed onto her son, and her lips were pressed into a thin line, the skin chapped from her endlesss chewing. She held his hand tightly in hers as they walked to the palace gates, her other hand wringing in the fabric of her old and worn kosode. Her obi was small, but tied tightly, a faded green, and her feet tapped nervously in their sandals.

The palace had called for new servants, the Queen deciding that she wished to find a new handmaiden after the death of her last one, and Hitoka stood in a line that weaved through the palace gardens, rich with rock pools and large sakura trees, the pink petals dusting around them in the breeze. She was one woman in a group of seemingly hundreds.

“Mother, how much longer do we have to wait?” He mumbled, tugging on her hand impatiently.

“Hajime,” she chided gently, “be patient. We’re in the palace, you must be respectful. That means being quiet.”

He puffed, but stopped tugging. “Okay, but can we go home soon? I wanted to catch butterflies today. There’s a big one that keeps getting away from me, but I’ll get it! Once Father fixes my net-“

“Hajime, your father is busy, he might not have time to fix it,” Hitoka says, rubbing a thumb across her son’s tan rough palm. Hajime was forever outside, climbing up trees and kicking about rocks, and he fell over so much that he didn’t look normal if he wasn’t covered in bruises. “Besides, you should let the butterfly come to you instead.”

The line moved forward, Hajime noticing they were almost at the front now. “How do I do that?”

She smiled. “You must let it trust you, and that means you must be patient. Once it trusts that you will not harm it, it will fly next to you. Once you trust it to stay, it may even land on your hand.”

“Woah, I’ve never had one land on me before!” Hajime gushed. Normally, he was fond of the things he could easily pick up, from the crickets that hid in the wild grass around their cottage to the black beetles he found crawling up the bark of the trees, but the butterfly had always managed to evade him, fluttering far out of his reach.

Then, a man with a long thin black moustache came out, dressed in thick luxurious robes. He held a scroll in his pale hand, and he opened it, clearing his throat. “Iwaizumi Hitoka.”

Iwaizumi’s mother dropped his hand and bowed deeply. “That is me.”

“Follow me,” the man said with a clipped tone.

Before Hitoka could ask about her son, the man walked away, and she had no choice but to follow, dragging Iwaizumi beside her. He walked as fast as his short legs would allow him. They walked into the palace, Hajime’s eyes sparkling at the rich interior, the walls adorned with large glittering tapestries and borders of red and green. Ornate gold infused vases lined the pathway, some embedded with jade, and the thatched floor was thick under his feet, unlike the threadbare one that resided in his own home.

They pushed through a curtain of finely strung beads, and there, on an ornate throne, sat the queen, her advisor standing next to her. She was a beautiful woman, with pale skin and caramel brown eyes, her thick mahogany hair cascading straight down her back, all the way to her ankles. She was swathed in a kimono made of the finest silks, brightly coloured as it fell down her body, resting against the long deep red pleated skirt that swished at her ankles. She wore many layers, ranging from thin fabric to thick brocaded fabrics, and she sat perfectly straight, her elegant neck on display.

The moustached man bowed deeply. “Queen Eri, I present to you Iwaizumi Hitoka of Seijoh.”

“My lady,” Hajime’s mother said immediately, dropping into a bow so low her nose nearly scraped the floor. “It is an honour to be in your presence.”

Hajime quickly bowed as well, struck for a moment by the beauty of her clothes. He’d never seen someone so pretty before.

The queen nodded as they rose. She turned to Hajime, a smile on her face. “And what is your name, child?”

“Hajime, my lady,” he said quickly, parroting his mother.

The queen’s smile grew wider. “You have wonderful manners, Hajime-chan. Tell me, how old are you?”

“I’m six!” he said proudly. “I’m nearly a man! That’s what my mother says.”

Eri laughs, and it is like a tinkling of bells. “And a great man you will make. Tell me Hajime-chan, do you know why your mother is here?”

Hajime scrunched his nose. “She wants to work for you, my lady.”

“Do you think she should?”

Hajime watched as his mother bit her lip, her head still ducked. He looked at the empress, his chest puffed out. “Yes! She’s the best mother, she gives me her egg when we have miso soup, even though that means I’ll have two eggs and she won’t have any. Maybe- maybe she’ll give you an extra egg, too!”

“Hajime!” his mother scolded, looking up at the queen. “I am deeply sorry, my lady, he has never come into contact with someone of such royalty before, he does not know where he stands.”

Eri only smiled. “Please, do not fret. I find children delightfully honest- they do not know yet how to lie. Your son thinks very highly of you. I can only hope that mine does the same.”

Hajime perked up. “Mother told me that you have a son!”

“Yes, his name is Tooru. He’s your age, Hajime-chan,” she said fondly.

“I bet he spends a lot of time in the garden,” Hajime said wistfully, much to the queen’s confusion.

“The garden? Why would you say that?”

“It’s where all the bugs are!” he said, as if it were obvious. “Bugs like to be in the grass, and the trees, and the flowers, and your garden has all of those. I bet I could catch a hundred bugs in there!”

Eri tilts her head, long hair rippling with the motion. “You are very different from my Tooru, Hajime-chan. He’s afraid of the bugs in the garden, he rarely goes outside in the summer months.”

Hajime scratches at his hair. “I don’t think bugs are scary. I think that maybe…maybe he just needs to catch a beetle or- look at a bee. I like the bees because they make more flowers grow. Maybe once he knows that he won’t be afraid of them anymore.”

“Perhaps,” she smiled at him.

“I am sorry that I have used up so much of your time,” Hitoka started gently, reaching out to clasp her hand around Hajime’s. “His father is a blacksmith, and I fear Hajime is too young to have him apprentice there yet. I had no choice but to bring him, my husband is my only family in Seijoh. Forgive me, my queen.”

“It is forgiven,” she said instantly. “I find him to be an interesting converser. He is wonderfully refreshing.”

The old man, who had been standing silent throughout the encounter, cleared his throat and bowed. “My liege, it is time for the next appointment.”

“No need,” Eri said casually. “I have chosen. Iwaizumi Hitoka, I appoint you my new handmaiden. You will start tomorrow at dawn.”

Hitoka let out a shaky breath of relief, and smiled widely, bowing deeply again. “Thank you, my lady, you are most gracious. I will not let you down. Come, Hajime.”

Hajime bowed again, holding his mother’s hand. “Thank you, Queen Oikawa.”

As they walked back through the palace, led by the guide, Iwaizumi turned his head to look in one of the rooms, and for a second, met a pair of warm chocolate brown eyes, blinking owlishly at him. The young prince was sitting on the floor, a set of painted cards sat in front of him, but he stopped when he noticed Iwaizumi.  
Then, his mother tugged his arm, and he was pulled away from the door and back down the corridor. That was his first glance of the young prince, but he had a feeling he'd never forget those big brown eyes.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two years, Hajime finally meets Tooru.

Hajime touched the frail net, letting out a small whine. Ever since his mother has been appointed the hand maiden to the queen two years ago, he had asked his father- Iwaizumi Nowaki- many times to fix his net, and yet every time the man promised he would get around to it, he forgot. Hajime never bothered him too much- he spent his days in the market, helping old Takano-san sell her apples in the market square, but when he helped her pack up in the evening, he could hear the call of cicadas and yearned to capture them.

Hajime wasn’t angry at his father- how could he be? His father had been a hard-working man, spending every day in his tiny shed with the hot coals and steel, making and fixing and welding from sunrise to sunset. Besides, without it, Hajime had learned to catch the bugs with his hands even better. He still hadn’t gotten a butterfly yet, though.

Hajime had just been about to work with him when his father took ill, his fever leaving him bedridden in a matter of days. He tried to speak with him, but whenever the older man opened his mouth, all that came out was a slither of breath, or a chest wracking cough. His mother cried every night, Hajime on her knee as she smoothed back his father’s hair from his sweaty forehead. All Hajime could do was hold his hand, clinging to the only coherent words he had managed to say before he passed.

“Hajime, you’re going to be the man now…you have to take care of your mother, okay? You have to keep her safe. Can you promise me?”

Hajime had promised.

He thought about it as he sat at the shrine, an old portrait of Nowaki drawn on faded papyrus, surrounded by candles, and all the flowers Hajime and his mother had been able to find. Incense burned quietly beside him, the smoke gently wafting through the air, and he bowed on the floor, trying not to cry. “I’ll keep her safe. I can do it. You can rest, Father.”

And so, he awoke early that morning as his mother was setting off for the temple, falling into step beside her. She looked at him, her eyes still red-rimmed. “Hajime? Where are you going?”

“I’m coming with you,” he said, quietly. “Father told me that I had to work to help you. Was he right?”

Hitoka’s breath hitched, and she nodded hurriedly. “Yes, h-he was. We cannot live without your father’s business, not for long.”

“Then, I will ask the queen if she will help me,” he said resolutely.

“Hajime! You cannot be so rude!” his mother gasped. “Do not take advantage of her kindness, it is disrespectful. Is there no one willing to teach you their trade?”

“I mean her no disrespect, I just want to do what Father asked,” he said, squaring his shoulders as the temple loomed in view. “I promise I will ask in the market tomorrow if I can’t work here. I will help you, Mother, I promise.”

Hajime’s mother pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of his thick spiky hair. “You are a good boy, Hajime.”

He clutched her back, before they parted, stepping into the gardens of the temple. Hajime hoped that if he were to get work, he would be fortunate enough to work in the gardens. He waited in the entrance hall, watched carefully by the eyes of the guards, their hands always resting on their swords, and he gulped. They had seen him occasionally throughout the years, often walking his mother to the temple before departing back down to the market, but this was the first time that he had actually stayed.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, the queen walked in, her elegant robes trailing behind her as she swayed. She was as beautiful as ever, adorned in expensive jewels, her hair now reaching her ankles. Her husband, Hiro, joined her, and then Hitoka walked in, standing by Eri’s side, her eyes downcast.

Eri cleared her throat. “You have requested an audience, young man?”

“Y-yes!” Iwaizumi said, quickly bowing deeply.

“What is your name, boy?” the King said roughly, his face old and worn like cracked leather, a few streaks of white in his jet black hair. His eyes were small and narrowed, and his face stern, as if in a permanent frown.

“Iwaizumi Hajime, sire,” Hajime said, cursing himself for his voice shaking slightly.

“And you are so bold as to request an audience with the King himself?” Hiro said, lifting his head back so that his eyes glinted under the light. “You are but a boy- surely you know where you stand? It is my wife that insisted I listen to you child, so speak with purpose.”

Hajime gulped. “I am sorry for taking your time, but I must ask you something.”

“Go on.”

“I would like to work for you, please,” he said quickly, tongue almost tripping over the words. “I do not care which work it is, all I ask is that you let me work for you.”

“Work for us? Whatever made you think that you could work for us?” The King said incredulously, but leaned back when he felt his wife’s hand touch upon his arm gently.

“Go on, Hajime,” she said softly, intrigued.

“My father passed away, a-and I need to work, too, to help my mother,” he explained, still not rising from his bow. His mother always taught him that the lower and longer you bow, the more respect you give. If he got any lower he’d be a rug. “My mother works for the Queen, my Lord, and I promised my father I would watch over her. I beg that you let me work here.”

There was silence as they pondered this, and the Queen turned to Hitoka. “He is still as well spoken as ever, Hitoka, even in the face of grief.”

She bowed gratefully. “If I may, my lady?”

“Yes?”

“I think that Hajime could learn a great deal from working in the palace,” she said softly. “He will need a strong male role in his life to guide him as he grows, and if he is surrounded by hard working, respectful people, as well as such a fearless and strong King, he will grow to be a fine man.”

The man smiled at this, his ego inflated. He clicked his tongue. “Rise, boy.”

Hajime did immediately.

“You say you care not which work I give you?”

“I do not,” he said honestly. “I do love your gardens, though.”

“Still?” Eri asked, a laugh on her lips.

“Yes, my lady,” he smiled wide, showing off two of his missing teeth.

The King clears his throat. “The gardens are full, however, I believe we could use a new stable boy. You can start today.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Hajime said as he bowed again.

“Do not make me regret my kindness,” he warned carefully. “I expect you to work as hard as you can, every day that you spend here. You work for royalty now, so you must never slack- do you understand?”

“I do,” he agreed with a nod of his head.

“Very well, I will have Ukai show you the way,” he said, waving his hand to signal a blonde servant. The man, who was standing in the corner of the room with his head respectfully bowed, stood forward, his hair pulled into a tight bun and secured with a clip.

“Since both you and your mother will be working for us, you are to move into the servants’ quarters,” the queen said with a gentle nod of her head. “You may collect your belongings tonight and bring what you wish to your new room tomorrow.”

Hajime’s eyes widened, as did his mothers. Seeing her drop into a bow, he quickly mimicked it. “Thank you, my lady. You are very gracious.”

The King, having grown bored, waved his hand. “Ukai, take him.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” he said, and then looked at Hajime. “Come with me, boy.”

Hajime followed him, and they walked through some different corridors, through the doors and out to the back pastures. It was a huge patch of land, with a large long shack build along the side, housing about ten horses. They were all huge with gleaming coats, round eyes ogling Hajime just as much as he ogled them. They shook their heads in defiance, letting out loud neighs and banging their hoofs against the ground.

“Takeda!” Ukai shouted.

A small man with curly black hair poked up from one of the stalls, and wiped his forehead of sweat. “Yes, Ukai-san?”

“Quieten these things down- you know the King doesn’t like it when they get rowdy,” he chided, before pushing Hajime forward, “and as of today, you have a new worker. His name is Iwaizumi Hajime, and you are to train him, under the King’s orders.”

Takeda smiled warmly, and Hajime found himself relaxing. “Hello, Hajime-chan.”

“Hello, Takeda-san,” he said with a small bow. “I look forward to working with you.”

“And I you,” he said, wiping his hands on the fabric of his wide leg trousers. “Come, I’ll show you all the horses, okay? You’ll need to learn how to care for each one. Thankyou Ukai-san.”

Ukai nodded and turned to leave, walking back towards the main palace building. Takeda then started shuffling towards one of the horses, a kind smile on his face. He was slow in both movement and speech, and Iwaizumi suspected that a lifetime of being around such wild animals warranted that treatment. His father once owned a horse, but it was no prize-winner; she was old and weakened by so many years of use, used only for transport through the market to get new materials for the forge. Iwaizumi had little memory of her, but he had affection for all animals, and as such smiled at the large horse in front of him.

“Her name is Kira,” Takeda supplied, “Do you want to pet her?”

Iwaizumi nodded and stretched a hand out, bumping it gently against the horse’s snout as he began to pet her. She stood still for a few seconds, and then dipped her head, allowing him better access.

“She’s soft,” he mumbled absent-mindedly.

“Because we brush her every day. The stable staff consists of myself, a woman called Tanaka Saeko and a boy called Sawamura Daichi- I think he may be a little older, but you should get along fine.” Takeda turned to his side where a small bag of tools sat, and he picked it up, opening it to reveal its contents to Hajime. “This is the brush we use to brush the hair on their bodies. We have to do this every day, especially after we wash them, so they don’t get dirty. This brush is for their manes, so that they don’t get tangled. This little pick is so we can clean their hoofs, but I’ll show you how we do that, because sometimes the horses don’t like it when we touch their feet too much.”

Iwaizumi poked at all the tools, and steeled himself, nodding once. “Got it! Thank you very much for showing me!”

“You need not thank me,” the older man hummed, amused. “You will have lots to do here: the horses need fed first thing in the morning, and then we take them out for exercise- you will have to walk them, trot them, and then ride them- before we give them a quick wash and brush them. You get a small break before they need to be fed again. At dusk, we muck the stables out. Do you think you will be able to do that?”

Iwaizumi bowed. “Yes, Takeda-san, I will do my best.”

“Good, you can ask for help from anyone here if you need it. I am sure that once you settle in, you will do a fine job,” he said encouragingly, tapping Iwaizumi on the shoulder. “For now, we should feed them, and I will show you how we do everything on the list.”

Iwaizumi’s day was spent constantly moving: he poured food into the many buckets for each horse; he readied the saddles and ropes as Takeda showed him how to gently lead the horse out into the pasture; he jogged by the horse as he let it run in a wide circle, gently picking up speed. Then Takeda took over the reins for him, and Iwaizumi watched in awe as Takeda ran faster with the horse, before reaching up to hold onto the saddle as he hoisted his body up and onto the back of the moving horse. They galloped around the wide grassland, before eventually slowing to a stop, Takeda descending easily and leading the horse back to its stall.

“Will I ever get to do that, Takeda-san?” Iwaizumi asked excitedly.

“Eventually, yes,” he smiled good-naturedly, “but when you are older and a little more experienced. Right now, you will have to learn the basics so that the animal will trust you, do you understand?”

“I do,” Iwaizumi said, a little saddened that he wouldn’t be able to learn such a skill yet, but pleased nonetheless.

The two went back to their respective silence, Takeda only speaking as he pointed out certain ways to hold the horses, coax them, walk them, and talk to them. Iwaizumi drank it in, and was surprised to find that he rather liked the routine. The horses were strong steady animals, and Iwaizumi longingly ran his fingers over the silky coats, waiting for the day he would be able to ride them freely around the pasture.  
Some time later, after a maid had dropped off small bowls of soup for them, Iwaizumi was sitting down as a boy with short black hair sat down next to him, smiling.

“Hello, I’m Sawamura Daichi, but you can call me Daichi,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, I started today.”

“Nice to meet you, Iwaizumi! You’ll love it here! It’s hard work, but the horses are really fun when you get to ride them. My favourite is Akemi, you know him? He’s the big brown one there.”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I know him. I like all of them, but I really like Kira, she’s soft.”

Daichi’s eyes widened. “Kira hates me- she doesn’t let me near her no matter how hard I try. I swear she tries to eat my hand whenever I feed her.”

Iwaizumi laughed, and shovelled some soup in his mouth. It was mediocre, but it filled his empty stomach, and for that he was grateful. “Are these all the palace horses?”

“Yeah, the King’s one is the black one in the middle, he’s called Kane,” Daichi said, pointing over at the stalls. “Takeda is the only one aside from the King allowed to ride him, but we still get to feed him and brush him, so it’s not too bad.”

“What about the queen, does she have a horse?”

Daichi thought about it. “No, I don’t think so. She’s a lady, so I don’t think she gets one unless they are travelling.”

“Weird.” Iwaizumi shrugged, finishing off his soup.

Daichi hummed in agreement. “Prince Tooru rides Chiyo almost every day. He usually has his lesson right about now.”

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.

There was some noise from around the corner, and then a young pale boy with chestnut curls bounded in waving his arms wildly. “Chiyo, I’m here!”

“My Lord, please do not act so uncouth, it is unbecoming of a prince,” the advisor that followed behind him chipped curtly.

Tooru ignored him, running up to the stall to pet his horse affectionately on the nose. “Are you ready to go for a ride, girl? Where’s the stable staff?”

Daichi stood up immediately and bowed. “My apologies my Lord, we were finishing our lunch. Please, let me prepare Chiyo for you.”

Oikawa smiled brightly and stood back, looking around as he waited for Daichi to carefully strap the saddle onto his horse, and then his eyes met Iwaizumi.  
“You!” he yelled, pointing his finger.

“Me?” Iwaizumi questioned, suddenly nervous.

“My Lord, do not point!” the older man said exasperatedly.

Tooru bounded up to Hajime, dressed in much nicer robes than the shorter boy, his skin clean and free from dirt, unlike Hajime. He smiled widely, and Hajime blinked stupidly.

“I remember you, you came here a while ago! When Mama got her new helper, that’s when I saw you,” Tooru said, eyes wide with curiosity. “Do you remember?”

“Yeah, you were playing cards or something,” Iwaizumi mumbled softly as he dragged the memory to the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah, I was playing Karuta, do you know how to play?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. “No.”

“That’s okay, I’ll teach you,” he said with a wide smile that Hajime couldn’t help but mirror.

“You’ll do no such thing, my lord,” tutted his advisor as he walked over, sighing. “Chiyo has been prepared, you must go and practice again- you are much too stiff still on the horse. It won’t make you a good warrior if you fall off mid battle.”

Oikawa grumbled, but turned to walk towards his horse. “Hey, wait!” he said, peeking over his shoulder, “What’s your name? And do you work here now?”

“My names Iwaizumi Hajime,” he said, rubbing his hand across his nose. “Yeah, I’m gonna be working in the stables now.”

“Iwaizumi, huh? Cool! I’ll see you later then, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa grinned, before walking over to his horse.

Iwaizumi bristled as Daichi stood beside him. “Iwa-chan? I don’t want to be called that! How do I get him to stop?”

“You can’t,” Daichi said regretfully, shaking his head. “The prince is really friendly, he gets in trouble for talking to the servant staff a lot, actually. He gives nicknames to almost everyone, and once he’s picked one, you’re stuck with it.”

Iwaizumi kicked some straw off the ground. “That’s dumb.”

“Yep,” Daichi said with a chuckle. “But, Iwa-chan suits you, ne?”

Iwaizumi growled and shoved at Daichi, who only laughed and skipped over to the stalls, petting the horses as he walked by them. With a sigh, Iwaizumi walked over as well, keeping his eyes trained on the young prince. He was awkward on his horse, still a little frightened of going too fast, but he was laughing, and Iwaizumi reasoned that he could deal with a stupid nickname if it kept the prince happy.


	3. chapter 3

Time passed much quicker than he expected it to. He had settled into his room easily, sharing a small cramped bedroom with Daichi, their straw mattresses in opposite sides of the room. His days were completely full as he worked, and he spent so much time at the stalls he wondered why he didn’t just sleep there at night, too. He had begun to get much better with the horses though- weeks after Takeda had shown him how to care for them, he had gotten on the good side of almost every horse, and found it rather relaxing to simply sit and brush them, talking to them quietly under his breath.

Daichi was often with him, and occasionally they would be visited by Takeda and Saeko, mostly whenever the horses needed to be ridden instead of roaming around the pastures. Every day, he would be visited by the prince, who, in a recent development, had started arriving a little earlier.

He trotted in that day, hands swinging freely by his side, and called out with a bright voice. “Yahoo!”

Daichi immediately set down his brush and bowed, a weary smile on his lips. “Good day, my lord.”

“Hi!” he smiled back, before turning to Iwaizumi. “Aren’t you going to bow?”

Iwaizumi sighed and quickly bowed. “Hello, Prince Oikawa.”

“Iwa-chan, don’t look so grumpy! I came all this way to see you.”

“You came all this way to ride your horse,” Iwaizumi said, face scrunching up. “Where’s your guy anyway?”

“My guy?” Oikawa’s nose creased in confusion. “Oh! My advisor, his name is Masahiro, by the way. I finished my studies a little earlier today so I could get here before him. He’s so boring, Iwa-chan! He doesn’t even like the horses.”

“I think the horses are cool,” he murmured defensively. “They’re good animals, they’re always nice to Daichi and me.”

“Daichi and I, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa corrected brightly, either not noticing Iwaizumi’s annoyance or choosing to ignore it. “Besides, I know the horses are good, Chiyo is the best though! Isn’t she Daichi?”

Daichi nods respectfully. “Yes, sire.”

“See! Told you,” Oikawa says, and then he faces Iwaizumi with a grin. “Hey, do you want to race?”

Iwaizumi loved a competition. “Where?”

“Around the pasture! Full circle, first one back wins!” There was a slight gleam in those chocolate brown eyes when they met with Iwaizumi’s, and Oikawa smirked.

Daichi lifted a hand. “I don’t think that’s wise, my lord. Masahiro-san would not be pleased, and Iwaizumi has work to do.”

Iwaizumi wilted. “I guess he’s right.”

The young prince huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. “If Iwa-chan is too scared to race me because he knows I’ll win-“

“I’m not scared! I’ll race you!” Iwaizumi puffed his chest out, offended.

“My Lord!” yelled an out of breath voice, as Masahiro finally came into view. “You left before I could escort you here! How are you to stay out of trouble if you continuously run away from me?”

Oikawa’s smile dropped, and he pouted. “Masa-san, you don’t need to walk me everywhere!”

“Actually, I do. Queen’s orders,” he sighed, sounding just as fed up as Oikawa. “Come, enough chatting. You, stable boy, why has his horse not yet been prepared?”

Iwaizumi’s brow quirked, and he frowned. “Sorry, I will ready her now.”

After Iwaizumi had settled the horse and Oikawa had made his rounds in the pasture, he began to fill up pails of water from the well, carefully carrying them back to the stalls, ready to quickly wash the horses. He watched as Daichi helped put Chiyo away, and Oikawa skipped towards him, smile as annoyingly big as ever.

“Bye bye, Iwa-chan! I’ll race you tomorrow okay?” Oikawa said, leaning into whisper. “I’ll get here early enough, I swear. But you’re going to lose!”

Iwaizumi scoffed, but grinned nonetheless. “You wish! You might be taller but I’m definitely faster!”

“You, servant!” the angry man called as he walked towards them, “leave the prince alone. He is too busy to be conversing with you, get back to work.”

Iwaizumi grit his teeth, and Oikawa yelped as the hand on his shoulder pushed him forward, forcing him to walk. He turned around and saw Iwaizumi’s furrowed face and gave a light pearl of laughter, sticking his tongue out to annoy Iwaizumi further.

Really, Hajime thought as he dabbed at the horse’s coat with a thin rag, how could this boy ever be King?


	4. chapter 4

Iwaizumi had begun to take on more duties three months after moving into the palace. Once he no longer had to be babied with the basic tastes of taking care of the horses, he was finished quicker, and left with more time on his hands. This did not go unnoticed by Ukai, who dragged him to another area of the palace, a wide open space where an older man with grey hair and a wrinkle face stood in front of many younger men, swords in hand.

“This,” Ukai said, gesturing in front of him, “is where the King’s knights are trained. That man there, the one at the front, is Irihata-san- he’s the head of the army, and the one who trains the new recruits.”

They are far away enough to not be heard, but Iwaizumi still bows his head anyway.

“Here, they learn how to fight with many different types of swords, hand-to-hand combat, and how to improve their agility, strength, and stamina.”

Iwaizumi bites his lip to contain his excitement. He watches as the men in the field swipe at each other, the metal clashing and clanging as they duck and roll, parry and block, every one of them determined to be the winner. His skin itches with the need to copy them, and he digs his foot into the ground as he fidgets.  
“I always wanted to be a warrior,” he said in awe. “Being a knight must be the best thing ever!”

Ukai chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Well, it is certainly a great honour, but there is more to being a knight than simply knowing how to fight; you must be patient, loyal, steadfast, intelligent, ruthless, and invested. If you are not willing to fight with your entire life, then you are not worthy of fighting for the name of Seijoh.”

Iwaizumi stood in silence as he watched the men continue to fight, Irihata’s bellowing voice shouting out corrections as he watched them. A yearning filled Hajime’s chest, and he sighed wistfully.

“Anyway, what I want you to do is clean their armour,” Ukai said casually, ruining Iwaizumi’s illusion. “After they spar, they will leave their armour and swords in the weaponry room, and since you have the time now, you are to clean and polish it all until it is shining.”

“Yes, sir,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

“The room is straight through that door-“ Ukai said, pointing to an entrance to the temple behind them, “-and to your left. Polish and rags are kept in there, in a box by the window. I expect this done to the highest of standards.”

“Yes, Ukai-san,” Hajime said, choosing to hang back and watch the knights for a little while longer as Ukai walked back to the palace.

Not five minutes after he left, Iwaizumi head an all too familiar voice. “Iwa-chan!”

Groaning inwardly, he turned around. “Prince Oikawa.”

“Iwa-chan, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the stable?” the young boy questioned.

“I have to clean their armour now as well, so I’m waiting on them to finish,” he explained, nodding at the older men.

Oikawa’s eyes shone, and he clapped his hands. “I love watching the knights! I can’t wait until I’m one, too, I’ll be the best knight in all of Seijoh!”

“I want to be a knight, too,” Hajime grinned, before it slipped slightly, and he shrugged. “But servants aren’t allowed to practice.”

Oikawa hums at this, before he jumps a little, tugging at Iwaizumi’s sleeve. “Ne, Iwa-chan, why don’t you become a secret knight?”

“A secret knight?”

“Yeah! You can just practice whatever the knights do, but on your own,” Oikawa said easily, proud of his idea. “Then, you’ll be just like a knight!”

Iwaizumi mulls it over, but shakes his head. “I don’t really have anywhere to practice, apart from my room, and it wouldn’t be a secret if Daichi saw me.”

Oikawa deflates a little. “I guess so. Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, I’ll think of something! Prince Oikawa can fix any problem!”

Iwaizumi openly scoffs at this, shooting a small but genuine smile at his friend. “What are you even doing out here anyway?”

“Ah, well, you see…” Oikawa begins, rubbing at the back of his head bashfully, “I’m hiding from my tutor. He’s no fun! I get so bored when I’m stuck in the palace all day, if I run away then I can hide until he gets me.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Iwaizumi asks with some concern.  
“Nope! If he tells Father, then my father will just get angry and ask why he couldn’t keep an eye on me! So I can run away and it’s fine as long as nobody else really finds me.”

Iwaizumi laughs a little and lightly nudges Oikawa’s shoulder. “Hurry up and go then, if you don’t wanna get caught.”

Oikawa slings an arm around his neck, smile wide. “Iwa-chan is worth the risk!”

Then, he bounds off, leaving Iwaizumi with burning cheeks.

Damn Oikawa.

Later, after Iwaizumi had polished so much metal that his hands felt as though they would be stained forever, he rested his head against the wall, looking at the sword he held in his hand. He bit his lip and turned it carefully in his hands, knowing all too well that he should just sit it back down and head back to the stables, but something stopped him, and he rose instead.

Quickly looking around to make sure nobody was watching, Iwaizumi stood, and held the blade in between his hands. It was heavy, so he adjusted his stance, and with a breath, started to swish it around, trying to mimic the movement of the older knights. It took a few tries to get used to the weight, and he didn’t have a lot of room, but as he swung the blade, jabbing it and quickly leaping to the side, a laugh bubbled up in his mouth, and he realised that for the first time in a while, he was having fun.

“You need to hold your shoulders back more. How are you ever going to counter attack if you’re slouched forward like that?” A gruff voice asked suddenly, and Iwaizumi yelped in surprise.

He stopped immediately, looking up to see Irihata watching him through furrowed brows, and he dipped low into a bow. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t- I just wanted to be like the knights! Please, forgive me.”

The old man rested against the doorway and smiled at the younger boy, face still parallel to the floor. “Stand up.”

Iwaizumi did, and gulped loudly.

“What’s your name?”

“Iwaizumi Hajime, sir.”

“Well, Iwaizumi, I know you were watching the knights train today,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “and I have to say…I’m impressed at how easily you picked up those movements. Have you held a sword before?”

Iwaizumi blinked in shock- he hadn’t been expecting that. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “My father was a blacksmith, sir, but he passed before I learned how to fight.”

“I see, so you have a natural talent for swordsmanship, it seems,” he mused. “Tell me, why were you practicing?”

“I want to be a knight,” Iwaizumi said instantly. “I know that I’m only a servant, and that it is not my place to say such things, but I want to be a defender to this Kingdom. Practicing after everyone else had left seemed like the only way to learn.”

“You are right- you are just a servant, and you may very well never be a knight,” Irihata agreed with a small nod, “but I think I shall teach you anyway. I have an inkling that you were made to hold a sword.”

Excitement bubbled in Iwaizumi’s chest, and he bit his lip. “Really? You will teach me? But-why?”

“Because I care not for your background, or trivialities like that- for me, the soul of the knightship does not lie in your credentials, but your heart,” Irihata explained. “I can see you, Iwaizumi, and you are a good child. I can only hope that the talent you possess will flourish under the right care, and that you stay pure of heart.”

“I…thank you, Irihata-san,” Iwaizumi said again, with a bow. He did not fully understand what the old man was saying, but he was thankful nonetheless, biting back his smile. “You have been very kind to me.”

“Well, make it up to me by improving every day. You may meet me after you polish the weapons each day, and I will teach you the ways of the sword.”

Iwaizumi bowed again, finally letting his smile show. “Yes! Thank you!”

Irihata turned to leave, but looked over his shoulder. “Iwaizumi? Keep this a secret. I may not care that you are a servant, but others in the palace certainly will, and they will not be happy.”

Then, the man turned and walked out, leaving Iwaizumi with a head full of hopes and his chest fit to burst. He couldn’t wait to tell Oikawa.

Oikawa, as it turns out, was absolutely delighted.

“Iwa-chan, that’s brilliant!” he exclaimed, eyes wide. “Now we can learn how to be knights together!”

“I’m really happy Irihata-san is teaching me how to do this,” he admitted gratefully. “But you can’t tell anyone! It’s a secret.”

“If it’s a secret then why did you tell me?” Oikawa asks with a teasing grin, his smile growing when Iwaizumi huffs in annoyance.

“Because, you don’t count!” he says, face heating up. “Stop looking at me like that.”

The prince tilts his head innocently. “Like what?”

“Like you’re all...happy,” Hajime grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away. Oikawa had a nice smile, but when his full grin was directed right at Hajime, it felt a little too much to bear, and he could feel the tips of his ears redden traitorously.

“But Iwa-chan,” Tooru said, “I am happy! Iwa-chan told me when he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!”

“Stop shouting it!” he chastised, quickly looking around them. Then, to move the conversation on, he said, “Hey, Irihata-san got me my own sword, do you wanna see?”

Oikawa’s eyes flashed. “Yes! Let’s go, let’s go!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and grabbed Oikawa’s hand, pulling him down into a small side exit of the palace that led to a set of stairs. He looked around, and when he saw nobody lurking, tugged Oikawa in.

“Where are we going?”

“The servant’s quarters,” answered Hajime, now leading Oikawa down a corridor. “The swords hidden in my room so none of the knights can find it.”

“We’re going to Iwa-chan’s room?” Oikawa gasped, hand holding tight onto Iwaizumi’s. “I’ve never seen your room!”

Iwaizumi ducked his head. “Yeah, well…don’t have any expectations, okay? It’s obviously not going to look like your room.”

“I know that, silly,” Oikawa shrugged, “but I’m still excited.”

Quickly, Iwaizumi pressed them both against a wall as the set of footsteps he heard faded into silence. He peeked around the corner and saw that it was empty, and breathed a sigh of relief; if anyone caught him with Oikawa down here, he’d have his guts strung for garters- the prince should never be seen in the servants’ quarters.

He pulled Oikawa to his door, and quietly opened it, peeking in to make sure it was definitely empty. It was, as he knew it would be – Daichi was always out at this time, busy with his own duties- and he quickly dragged Oikawa in behind him.

Once the door was closed, Iwaizumi let out a breath of relief and started to walk to his bed. The room was small and would be seen as cramped, should they have belongings or furniture. As it was, however, both he and Daichi barely owned anything: their two straw filled mattresses sat on opposite ends of the room along with thin sheets and burlap sack pillows, about two metres apart, and in the middle was a small night stand with a candle and an old worn book on top. Iwaizumi’s clothes were in a neatly folded pile next to his bed, as were Daichi’s, and in the corner of the room there was an old pot. There wasn’t any windows, so the only light in the room came from the small candle, and the lanterns attached to the walls of the corridor, casting an orange glow through the cracks of the heavy wooden door.  
Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa took a look around, breathing in a lungful of the stagnant air and wrinkling his nose, and he quickly reached under his pillow, pulling out the sword. He shoved it at him, suddenly desperate to get it over with.

“There, that’s it!”

Oikawa, temporarily distracted, lit up and clutched onto the sword is, beginning to swish it around and move into the stances for fighting. He parried and pivoted, but he stumbled and tripped a little, bumping into Iwaizumi.

“Oops,” he grinned, looking up into Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“Get up already, you idiot,” he huffed, pushing the younger boy off him. “You’re heavy.”

“No I’m not! It’s muscle.”

“You’re eight! You don’t have any muscle!”

“Iwa-chan is just jealous!” he teased childishly, poking at Iwaizumi’s arm. “You don’t have any muscle at all, you’re just skinny.”

Iwaizumi looked at his arms self-consciously. Oikawa was right, they were quite skinny. Still, he huffed and crossed his arms. “Just wait, when we’re older, I’m going to be really strong. Then, when I punch you, it’ll really hurt.”

“Iwa-chan! Stop thinking about hitting me!”

A small chuckle bubbled up in Iwaizumi’s throat and he reached out and took the sword from Oikawa’s hands, quickly sliding it back under his pillow before turning back to Oikawa. “C’mon, we should probably get back. I don’t want to get thrown in the dungeons because you were down here.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Oikawa said easily as he walked out the door, letting Iwaizumi lead him down the corridor again. “Don’t you get cold at night? You don’t have a fireplace in your room.”

Hajime shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s okay right now, but it’ll probably get cold at winter. If we’re lucky we might be able to get an extra blanket from somewhere.”  
Oikawa nodded as he considered this. “Also- that book on the cabinet, is it yours?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s- it’s Daichi’s,” he said, voice lowering to a mumble as he spoke again.

“What? I couldn’t hear you,” Oikawa complained, taking in a fresh gulp of air when he opened the door at the top of the stairs.

“I said,” Hajime started, embarrassment making his words choppy and tight, “that I can’t read very well, so I don’t have a lot of books.”

“You can’t read?” Oikawa asked in surprise.

“My mother taught me some, but she’s not very good either,” he admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sometimes, if I ask, Daichi will go over some words with me. He can read better than I can.”

Oikawa pursed his lips, and upon seeing Hajime’s ducked face, quickly threw an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “No need to worry, Iwa-chan! I’ll bring you my notes after I study so you can learn to read, too!”

Iwaizumi met his warm brown eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. Oikawa was annoying, but he supposed that sometimes, the prince wasn’t so bad. “Thanks.”  
They parted ways after that, both boys having duties to attend to, but when Iwaizumi got back to his chamber after a long and gruelling day’s work, he was surprised to find an extra blanket on his bed, as well as one on Daichi’s. Attached to his was a small note, written in clear, wide spaced handwriting, a phrase easy enough hat even he could understand. 

_Stay warm, Iwa-chan! ___

__Picking up the blanket, which was thicker than anything he’d owned before, Iwaizumi lifted it to his face and smiled, breathing in the scent of the other boy.  
Yeah, he really wasn’t so bad at all._ _


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime reflects on the past years, and his feelings for Oikawa.

Years passed quicker than Iwaizumi would’ve expected them to. His life at the castle had seemingly rushed by in a haze of cleaning and polishing and practising and riding, all with a slither of Oikawa woven in throughout, like the weave work on a wicker basket. He found himself no longer eight and new and unsure of his place, but instead looked in the mirror of the room he still shared with Daichi, and saw a near seventeen-year-old boy, assured and calm.

He was taller now, but still was just a centimetre shorter than Oikawa, who seemed to hit a growth spurt almost exactly at the same time as Iwaizumi, condemning him to a life of forever being smaller. He had gotten tanner from many long days out in the sun, the harsh rays turning his skin a golden brown, and his hair was a little longer, the spikes dusting down over his forehead and over the tips of his ears. He was still slender, but his arms had gained some muscle from hauling bales of hay and buckets of food and water to the horses every day for the past eight years, and the additional training Irihata had been giving him ever since he was a child had helped fill him out a little.

He remembered the first day that he met with Irihata, how the man danced around him, jabbing and attacking and knocking him to the floor in seconds, coaching him to stay alert and focus and be aware of his own body and not just his enemy’s. It had taken time, but eventually, Iwaizumi began to improve, and, soon enough, he was able to counter attack against Irihata, easily jumping out of the way at the swipes the older man would make at him. He still kept the first sword Irihata had given him tucked under his pillow, holding onto it with fond memories. Eight years was a long time to develop his skill, and Iwaizumi was proud of where he was at now- he was fast, and ruthless, going for attack after attack without breaking a sweat, and Irihata actually had some difficulty sparring with him.

However, he had still to win against the old man. Iwaizumi guessed there was just some partners you couldn’t beat.

In saying that, there was always one partner he detested losing to- Oikawa.

Such was the case that day.

“Iwa-chan, will you ever win against me?” Oikawa laughed loudly, dressed in his tunic and slacks, his kimono abandoned on the grass. His sword was held in his hand, pointed at Iwaizumi’s throat, where he lay on the ground.

Iwaizumi grumbled, hitting the sword away with a bash of his hand. “Will you ever not be a prat?”

“How original, you wound me,” Oikawa said as he rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip. “Honestly, have you no respect for your prince?”

“No,” the raven deadpanned, biting back a smile when Oikawa gawked.

“So bold for a servant,” he grumbled, extending a hand out for Iwaizumi.

He gripped it, and Oikawa hauled him to his feet easily. Iwaizumi brushed the stray grass blades off his backside, and met Oikawa’s eyes with a smirk forming on his lips. He leaned in, lips almost brushing against Oikawa’s. “One day, this servant is gonna kick your ass.”

Oikawa placed a hand on Iwaizumi’s waist, pulling him closer. “You’re awfully confident about that, Iwa-chan. False bravado is embarrassing.”

Iwaizumi leaned in, slotting a leg inbetween Tooru’s thighs, his hands knotting in the material of his tunic. “I have reason to be confident.”

“Oh?” Oikawa said playfully, one hand on Iwaizumi’s front and the other sliding up his back. “What is it?”

Lifting his lips to Oikawa, Iwaizumi grinned mischievously. “This.”

Iwaizumi went to knock Tooru’s legs out from under him, pushing at his chest to knock him off-balance, but the minute he tried to move, Tooru had already flipped him, and Iwaizumi found himself on the ground, again.

“God damnit!” he groaned, banging his fist against the ground. “I was so sure I was going to get you!”

Oikawa laughed loudly, and plopped down on the ground next to Iwaizumi, rolling onto his side. His cheeks were rosy, and his smile was wide and genuine. “You’re way too obvious! Stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, Iwa-chan.”

“I was hoping I would shock you enough that you’d be easy to disarm,” he grumbled, folding his arms behind his head.

“You can’t seduce me in the throes of battle,” Oikawa scoffed. “Besides, that’s how I knew that you were planning something else- you’re never that forward with your affections, especially not when someone could see.”

Iwaizumi huffed, and closed his eyes. “Nobody’s here, right?”

Oikawa looked around, but, as always, the small edge of the courtyard that they used to spar whenever they both had free time remained empty. It was the one part of the land that didn’t fall under the region of the stables, garden and training ground, so it was rarely used. Thankfully, that made it the perfect place for them to meet when they had ten minutes to spare, and begin the competitive game that had flared up between them once Oikawa saw Iwaizumi sparring with Irihata all those years ago.

He gave Iwaizumi a small smile. “Nobody is here but you and me.”

“Good.”

“So nobody else has to see your crippling defeat, yet again, as you were bested by the great Oikawa Tooru once more-“

“Oh, my God, do you ever shut up?” Iwaizumi groaned. “Honestly, every time. I get it, you’re a mighty prince, blah blah blah. Pretty shitty to feel so good about beating me when you get trained properly, for hours, on the daily, and I get a secret hour whenever Irihata feels up to it.”

Oikawa snickered, rolling onto his front and holding himself up on his elbows. “Excuses, excuses.”

“You know, I’ll stop training with you,” Iwaizumi threatens emptily. “I have a shit ton of jobs to do in this palace, I could just go do them instead of coming here to see you.”

“Iwa-chan, don’t joke like that,” Oikawa said flippantly. “We both know you’re far too attached to me for that. Besides, this is the only time I get to have fun! Training with the knights is weird. They either come at me half assed because they think if they beat the prince I’ll sentence them to death, or they hold some weird vendetta against me, and come at me way too intensely. It’s only really fun if I’m paired with Makki or Mattsun.”

Iwaizumi hummed in reply, his eyes closing once again. “It’s hard being royalty. Woe is you.”

Tooru ignores the jab. “Plus, if you don’t meet me here, when else am I supposed to do this?”

Iwaizumi feels Oikawa’s hand on his jaw, tilting his head to the side. “Oikawa…”

“Relax, Iwa-chan. Nobody is here,” he soothes, “but if it makes you feel better, I’ll leave after a kiss, okay?”

Hajime nods, and then Oikawa’s head dips to meet his. He pressed their lips together, and, on instinct, Hajime opens his mouth, his hand snaking into Oikawa’s curls.

He can’t exactly pinpoint when this began.

A lot of things changed in nine years: he grew taller and thicker, his skin darker and hair longer; he learned everything about the horses there was to learn, finally able to jump onto their backs with ease; he learned the new skill of fighting, the weight of a sword in his hand a guilty pleasure he hadn’t anticipated would be so addicting; he discovered his new favourite food, and ones that he hated; he made new friends among the serving staff, who saw past his gruff demeanour; he’d even learned to read, after many hours of gentle coaxing from Oikawa as they poured over his notes every day; and he watched as the Kingdom of Seijoh grew more powerful with every battle.

Some things didn’t change; he was still good friends with Daichi, whom he still shared a room with; he still hated tomatoes; his favourite horse was still Kira, old as she was; he still loved catching the bugs in his hands when he spotted them crawling among the blades of grass or hiding in the softness of a petal; and he still, somehow, found himself closely intertwined with Oikawa Tooru.

He wasn’t sure when their relationship grew into this. All his memories were tainted by the brunette boy who, from the age of eight, had been with Iwaizumi every day, racing him or bombarding him with an endless amount of questions about anything and everything. As they grew, and Oikawa became more aware of the textbook relationship between servant and master, Iwaizumi expected the brunette to lay off with his careless grins and tugs on Iwaizumi’s hand, but he was proven wrong- Oikawa seemed only more intent of dragging Iwaizumi around the palace with him and racing him around the pastures, laughing wildly when the raven teased and threatened him. The staff had become so used to seeing Iwaizumi trudging after Oikawa that they rarely batted an eyelid when he passed them anymore.  
Iwaizumi had asked him once, why he acted so relaxed around the servant.

“Because, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said slowly, as if Iwaizumi were stupid, “You’re my best friend.”

He had also learned that Oikawa was nothing if not stubborn. He refused to leave Iwaizumi alone, pestering him until the young boy finally agreed that Oikawa was his best friend, too. Even when Oikawa’s attendants were with him, and he couldn’t outwardly be himself without being scalded, he would always flash Iwaizumi a smile or a peace sign, or- if Hajime was having a bad day- a really ugly face to make him laugh.

Somewhere along the line, Oikawa’s hand started to linger longer on Iwaizumi’s. His grins became more shy, his cheeks pink even when they were standing still. He would steal Iwaizumi away to do nothing but sit and stare at the clouds, pointing out what they looked like and laughing at each other’s answers. One day, when Oikawa had taken Iwaizumi away to do just that, his hand rested atop Iwaizumi’s, and didn’t move. His fingers nudged the tan boy’s apart, slotting into the free space, and, as if he were commenting on the weather, Oikawa said: “I like you, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi had done nothing but squeeze Oikawa’s fingers and give him a small smile, his answer hanging in the air.

_Yeah, I like you, too._

Their relationship did not drastically change. The planet did not stop spinning, time did not freeze- everything simply continued as normal, as if the whole world had been expecting it from the beginning. Iwaizumi liked it better that way. It was not obvious to anyone from the outside, but he could catch the way Oikawa would stare at him with a warm gaze and soft smile, and he knew that it was just for him. He would find any excuse to brush his hands across Iwaizumi’s shoulders, or briefly intertwine their fingers together as they passed, and Hajime felt as though each time, his heart was filling up in his chest more and more, ready to burst.

Of course, Oikawa was still horribly annoying. He still angered Iwaizumi, nagged him, pestered him and goaded him with the hopes that he would blow his top and get into trouble, but Iwaizumi always made sure to catch himself in the nick of time. He would really love to punch Oikawa, but he would love to keep his job, and most importantly, his life, more. Besides, if he were really angry, Oikawa would pick up on it instantly and gently wrap his arms around Hajime’s torso, whispering his apology so softly that Hajime would have no choice but to accept it.

He remembered that their first kiss wasn’t like the one they were having now. They were fourteen, and Iwaizumi was showing Oikawa all the bugs to be found in the garden, despite the squealing boy’s reluctance. He recalled laughing at Oikawa’s terrified yelp as the bees flew above them, landing briefly on the light petals. Iwaizumi had reached out and stroked one to prove to the prince that no, bees weren’t actually out to kill him, but Oikawa had already ran away, his kimono fluttering out behind him.

Sighing, Iwaizumi plucked one of the flowers from the garden, and walked after him. “Oikawa,” he said, catching out to him, “I’m sorry for making you look at the bugs. I know you don’t like them.”

Oikawa stopped, ready to whine before he saw the flower still clutched in Hajime’s calloused palm. “Is that for me?”

Hajime nodded. “And it’s bug free, I checked.”

Then, as if a light switch had been flipped in Tooru, his frown dropped, and he plucked the flower gently from Iwaizumi’s hand, staring at it against the paleness of his palm. He looked back up and, after a small breath, leaned forward and pressed his lips against Hajime’s.

“Thankyou.”

Hajime opened his eyes and pulled away from Tooru, smiling softly. “You should get going.”

“I don’t wanna,” he whined petulantly.

“Nobody can see you out here, especially not with me,” Iwaizumi reminded him gently. “If they catch us, you know what’ll happen.”

“Then run away with me,” he proposed, lips quirking. “Let’s leave and elope, and we’ll come back when it's my time to be King, and nobody can say anything about it.”

Iwaizumi laughed, if only to indulge the brunette, and he carded his fingers through Oikawa’s hair. “That’s not a very princely thing to do. Your people need you here.”

“But I need you,” he mumbled, lip jutting out. “God knows why. You’re small, and angry, and you’re not cute at all-“

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes so hard he was sure he caught sight of the back of his skull. “Guess you have terrible taste then. Must be to match your shitty personality.”

Oikawa gasped as if offended, but then he smiled, planting a quick kiss on Iwaizumi’s lips before sitting back, finally standing up. He hauled Iwaizumi to his feet.  
“I really do hate not being able to see you whenever I want.”

“Yeah, well,” Iwaizumi said, ducking his head a little in shame, “you shouldn’t even be with me anyway. Really, how stupid can you be?”

He felt Oikawa’s hand on his cheek, and his head was tilted up, steel green eyes meeting chocolate brown. “The stupidest.”

They kissed again, but it was chaste; both of them knew that it was time to return to their respective quarters. Then, Oikawa pulled back, his eyes wide. “Oh!”

“What?” Hajime said cautiously.

“I’ve had a rather amazing idea,” he said smugly, “but I can’t tell you yet, so don’t ask. I’m not sure it’ll work out, but I think if I ask just right, it’ll be fine.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but whatever,” Iwaizumi said, heading back off to the stables. “Have fun.”

“See you soon, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, skipping off.

He was much too happy for Hajime’s liking. He didn’t like the look on Oikawa’s face. He’d seen it many times before, and it only ever meant one thing: Hajime’s life was about to get a whole lot more difficult.


	6. chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi discovers Oikawa's surprise, and their new proximity leads to some interesting events.

Hajime was right.

“I’m going to be your what?” he asked incredulously, not sure if he had heard correctly.

“My manservant, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa positively gleamed. “You get to wake me, feed me, dress me, bathe me, run my errands, tidy my room, organise my wardrobe, and tuck me in at night! Isn’t that great?”

Iwaizumi held back the urge to kill him. “Oikawa, why on earth is that good? I barely get by without wanting to hit you now, imagine if I’m by your side all the time! I’ll go insane!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said with a flippant wave of his hand. “It’s an honour to be the Prince’s personal manservant, I’ll bet the other servants are extremely jealous of you.”

“The positions theirs if they want it,” Hajime spat, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “I don’t know how to do any of that stuff, Oikawa. All I know is horses and polishing, how the hell am I meant to do this?”

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry about that,” Oikawa said gently. “After all, it’ll be me that you’re working for, so if you make any mistakes or do anything wrong it’s okay, because I won’t get mad. I’ll help you if you’re confused, I promise.”

“A prince should not need to stoop low enough as to help the servant,” Iwaizumi mumbled, ears burning with embarrassment.

“Hajime,” Oikawa said, commanding Iwaizumi’s full attention. “Stop that. I do not see you as simply a servant- you are much more to me than that and you know it. All I want is to be able to see you whenever I want, and to have you close to me. How can that be a bad thing?”

“I guess you’re right,” he admitted reluctantly.

“So, what do you say? Will you be my manservant?” Oikawa asked with a theatrical wiggle of his eyebrows that forced Hajime to smile.

“Yeah, I guess I will,” Iwaizumi said, starting to grin. “Shittykawa.”

Hajime fit into Tooru’s everyday routine seamlessly. Although a little awkward at the start, not knowing exactly where to stand or where to leave the tray of breakfast, unsure of exactly how to change the covers on Tooru’s elaborate bed and whether to help him undress in the morning, he had taken a breath, sucked it up, and did his best, brushing past the initial embarrassment.

That was how he found himself now, pushing open Oikawa’s bedroom door at eight in the morning, a precariously full breakfast tray resting on one hand, and the other already reaching for the curtains, pulling them back with a flourish.

“Rise and shine!” he said loudly, moving to draw the curtains on the other window. “Time to wake up and see the beautiful day!”

“The beautiful day can fuck off,” Oikawa grumbled, the dredges of his hair poking out from under his covers.

Iwaizumi only laughed, moving to stand by the bed. “Princes shouldn’t use such vulgar language.”

“I wonder where I learned it,” the muffled voice spoke. “Now, as your prince, I command you to make the sun go away and let me sleep.”

Iwaizumi slid his hand into what was showing of Oikawa’s hair and lightly rubbed his scalp. He was no stranger to Oikawa’s attitude in the morning. “If you don’t get up I’ll pull this pretty hair out.”

“What is wrong with you? Why can’t you wake me up nicely? Maybe with a gentle kiss, or singing to me?” Oikawa huffed, but pushed his head into Iwaizumi’s hand.

“Because where’s the fun in that?” Hajime laughed, but then he smiled for genuine. “Can I sit down?”

“Of course, you don’t need to ask.”

Hajime sat down on the corner of the bed, and laid the tray down. He gently pulled back the covers to reveal Oikawa’s face, and leaned forward to lightly kiss him on the lips. “There’s your morning kiss. Now will you get up?”

“I need another kiss before I can get up,” he teased.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “I’ll pull these covers right off you, don’t test me.”

Oikawa groaned and shifted to sit up, blinking at the harsh light from the sun. He rolled his head to crack his neck, and stretched his arms above his head, feeling the bones pop with the movement. He saw Iwaizumi’s gaze linger across his chest, and he smirked. “Like what you see?”

“I’d like it better if it was washed and clothed so I could move on with my day,” he deadpanned, lifting up the breakfast tray. “Here, eat this whilst I get your bath ready.”

Oikawa accepted the tray and began to nibble on it, picking from the small bowls of rice and fruit, as well as the thin slices of meat that sat on the silver tray. As he ate, Iwaizumi bustled about, bringing in the pales of water that the kitchen staff had boiled for him. He carefully poured them into the large tin bath, making sure to add some of Oikawa’s favourite bath oil, and dipped a finger in. It was still too hot to bathe in, but it would cool down quickly.

He walked to the wardrobe and pulled out several outfits, looking through them to decide which was most appropriate. Oikawa had a vast selection of clothes, and he rarely wore the same thing twice, which made Iwaizumi’s job a lot harder than it had to be.

“What’s my schedule for today?” A voice called from behind him.

“You have a lesson with Tutor Kenji, knight training, a light lunch, then you’re over to the stables at noon- I believe you’ll be working on horseback archery. You have judo practice at three, and your dinner will be served after that, and I believe that you are training with Irihata-san at dusk. Then it’s time for supper. I presume you’ll reside in here after that,” Hajime parroted back clearly.

Oikawa threw his head back and groaned. “Why do I always have so much stuff to do? Why do I never have an off day? Being royalty sucks.”

Having selected an outfit, Hajime rolls his eyes. “Ah yes, your life is simply horrible. How bad it must be to wake up to fine fresh food, have somebody else wash you and dress you and clean up after you, be able to wear clothes of the finest fabrics and have access to knowledge and skills that most people only dream to have. It must be simply awful to do all of those things, be fed with large filling meals afterwards, have people fawn at your feet all day, only to fall into your duck feather stuffed mattress at night as you cry about the troubles of life.”

Oikawa gaped, and then shook his head reproachfully. “You have got such an attitude. Honestly, where did my kind sweet Iwa-chan go?”

“My apologies, my Lord,” he mumbled with a quick bow. Oikawa may be joking, but there was a point of truth in that- if anyone heard him speak to Oikawa like that he’d be thrown in the dungeons.

Oikawa scrunched his face up. “Stop that, you know I don’t like it when you do that. Acting all…servant-y is weird.”

“I _am _a servant, you know,” he said exasperatedly, picking up Oikawa’s finished tray. He’d left some of the food, and as Hajime thought about his own lackluster breakfast of a small bowl of rice, his stomach gave a treacherous growl.__

__Oikawa looked amused. “Hungry?”_ _

__“No,” he lied blatantly, setting the trays down. “Come, it’s time for your bath.”_ _

__“You can eat what’s left if you want,” Oikawa says softly, rising from the bed. “I don’t mind.”_ _

__As much as he wants to, the thought embarrassed him. Oikawa had never looked at him with pity for being below him, and he’d be damned If it started now. “Really, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. C’mere.”_ _

__Iwaizumi tried not to let his eyes linger on Oikawa’s naked form as he shucked the covers and walked towards the bath. Oikawa had certainly grown into a fine young man- his body was tall and lithe, hardened with muscle from years of training and exercise, and the way he carried himself oozed a confidence that had Iwaizumi’s cheeks darkening, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Oikawa wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi, burying his face in the crook of Hajime’s neck._ _

__“It’s cold.”_ _

__“Then it’s a good thing the bath is warm,” he coaxed, running a hand down Oikawa’s back._ _

__“So are you, Iwa-chan,” he countered, pressing a kiss against Iwaizumi’s jaw._ _

__Sighing, Iwaizumi turned his head and placed his lips against Oikawa’s, before drawing back. “Get in the bath, please?”_ _

__Sated, the brunette smiled, stepping into the tub. It was one of the palace’s biggest tubs, but it was still a little too small for the prince, his knees poking out ever so slightly, Oikawa let out a deep breath as he tilted his head back against the rim, looking at Iwaizumi through his eyelashes. “Wash me?”_ _

__Iwaizumi said nothing, only picking up the bar of soap and dropping to his knees by the tub. He rolled his sleeves up before ducking his hands into the water, rolling the soap in-between his fingers before he picked up Oikawa’s hand, pulling it above the surface. He ran the bar over his soft palm, up and across the tapering fingers and up the pale skin of his forearm, his fingers brushing over in light circles as he washed him. Oikawa sat contentedly as Iwaizumi ran a cloth over the soap, washing it away and leaving the water to trickle down his fingers, leaving glistening streaks on his arms that reminded Hajime of veins. He washed under Oikawa’s armpits and whacked him when he jerked and giggled, and dragged the cloth along his neck and down to his chest, leaning down to place a kiss against the brunette’s head._ _

__“Iwa-chan is being nice again,” Oikawa hummed softly, his eyes closed as Hajime began to lather up his other arm. “I like it.”_ _

__“I am nice,” he replied with a click of his tongue, “when you don’t annoy me, that is.”_ _

__Tooru only smiled, wrapping his fingers around Hajime’s playfully as he tried to wash them._ _

__“Here,” Iwaizumi murmured gently, “Sit up. I have to get your chest and back.”_ _

__Oikawa did as he was asked, and hesitantly, Iwaizumi placed the soap on Oikawa’s back, rubbing it gently across the muscles, mindful as they shifted with Oikawa’s slight movement. He let his fingertips slither down Oikawa’s spine, feeling the bumps under his fingers, and the brunette made a small noise and shivered._ _

__“Tickly,” he explained, tuning his head to gaze at Iwaizumi over his shoulder._ _

__Lips quirking in a smile, Iwaizumi washed away the soap and slid his arms around Oikawa’s torso, gently soaping up his chest. His fingers slid down his pectorals, firm under his hands, and brushed past his nipples, causing Oikawa’s breath to hitch. Iwaizumi’s hands continued their ministrations, dripping down into the water to rub at Oikawa’s stomach, dancing appreciatively over the muscles of his abdomen, dipping down into the ridges._ _

__Oikawa tilted his head back onto Iwaizumi’s chest, eyes closed and mouth parted, exposing the long column of his neck. “Feels good.”_ _

__Iwaizumi cannot help the blush that coloured his cheeks. How the hell could someone be so beautiful? He clears his throat. “Good.” Iwaizumi slid his hands back up Oikawa’s chest, and caressed his throat softly. “I need to wash your legs, now.”_ _

__With minimal complain, Oikawa lifted his arms to allow Iwaizumi freedom, and watched as the boy shifted to the other end of the tub, reaching in to wrap a hand around his ankle. He pulled his leg up out of the water, letting it rest against the side of the tub, and gently washed it with the same tenderness he had done with the rest of Oikawa’s body. His hands were especially gentle around Oikawa’s knee, which had always been faulty ever since he twisted it in training when they were eleven. He leaned forward and let his hands rub the soap into Oikawa’s strong thighs, not missing the way Tooru’s legs parted as much as they could for him, seemingly unconsciously if the prince’s completely slack face was any indication._ _

__Hajime knew that Oikawa loved to be pampered. He loved to have Iwaizumi fussing over him in any way; be that when he was sick and needed bedrest and Iwaizumi had changed the towels on his head every hour, and spoon-fed him soup his arms were too weak to lift; when he would hand his hairbrush to Iwaizumi every night and let the older boy gently drag it through his curls, brushing them until they were as soft as silk; or when he bathed him, Iwaizumi’s calloused hands treating his skin as if it were made of porcelain._ _

__To Iwaizumi, he was._ _

__As his hands met the junction of thigh and hip, he heard the quietest moan escape Oikawa’s lips, and his blood started to heat. Instead of saying anything, Iwaizumi moved to the other leg, repeating the motion over again, drifting up his leg with a gentle caress. When his hand bumped against Oikawa, the brunette visibly shivered, and opened his eyes every so slightly to look at Iwaizumi through hazy eyes._ _

__It sent a jolt through Iwaizumi. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t, too drawn in Oikawa’s gaze to even think about blinking. He took in everything: the pale unblemished skin, soft to the touch; the long lean body, willowy and assured in all its movements; the soft rosebud lips that would sing both nonsense and wisdom as they wished; the warm chocolate eyes that were framed by long curled lashes, easily the most beautiful thing about Tooru._ _

__He watched him, and stuttered a breath when the full force of his emotions whacked him in the chest. He loved Oikawa, he always had, and he always would, even if it wasn’t his place to say so._ _

__“Hajime…” Oikawa said quietly, lifting a hand to beckon for the servant._ _

__Iwaizumi shifted slowly, leaning forward to slot his lips against Oikawa’s, his hand reaching up to rest against his neck. He stroked his thumb across the steady beat of Oikawa’s pulse. And indulged himself when Oikawa’s tongue slid across his bottom lip, silently asking for him to open._ _

__He did, and immediately Oikawa was tugging him closer, wet hand slinking into Iwaizumi’s hair. He kissed Iwaizumi deeply, his tongue coaxing Iwaizumi’s into pressing back against him, and Iwaizumi was embarrassed to admit that a moan escaped his mouth.  
He pulled back with a deep breath. “Sit forward, I need to wash your hair.”_ _

__Oikawa smiled at him, and leaned forward, tilting his head back. Iwaizumi kept his gaze as he picked up a jug, filling it with the water and lifting it to Oikawa’s head. He gently covered the prince’s eyes with his hand, and let the water tip over his head, coating his hair, forcing the curls to lose their shape. He did this again, and then grabbed the soap, gently lathering up his own hands before running his hands through Oikawa’s hair. The brunette hummed in contentment, his smile lazy almost, but genuine._ _

__“My Iwa-chan always takes care of me,” he said, without a trace of embarrassment._ _

__Iwaizumi simply kept massaging his hair, partly for his own enjoyment as well as getting Oikawa clean. He dunked his hands in the water before covering Oikawa’s eyes again, lifting the jug to wash the soap out._ _

__“Stay still, or it’ll go in your eyes,” he murmured, tipping the water over._ _

__When Oikawa’s hair was clean, he let his fingertips drift down Oikawa’s neck before retreating. Oikawa tilted his head towards him, and the edge of his lips quirked.  
“Hajime,” he beckoned._ _

__The word had barely left the prince’s mouth before Hajime was kissing him, giving in to the unrelenting intoxicating yearning he harboured for Tooru. He knew that they shouldn’t be doing it, that in the reality of it all, he was barely fit to lick Oikawa’s shoes, and yet somehow, this beautiful unbelievable prince reached for him, wanted him, out of everyone in the whole kingdom. Hajime was determined to hold onto Tooru’s affection for as long as he could before it inevitably strayed when he found someone better._ _

__Tooru broke apart with a gasp, resting his forehead against Iwaizumi’s. His breaths were heavy, and his eyes were closed, fluttering slightly. “Hajime, please…”_ _

__“What do you want, Tooru?” Iwaizumi murmured softly, brushing back some strands of Oikawa’s hair. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”_ _

__“You,” he whispered, cupping Iwaizumi’s face. “I want you.”_ _

__Tooru pulled him forward, and they were kissing again. There was something delightful about kissing Tooru when he was warm and soft, when the water let their lips slide together effortlessly, the simple slide of his fingers drifting up the curve of Tooru’s thigh causing gentle ripples in the otherwise still water._ _

__Tooru broke away. “Please touch me. I-if you want to, I mean.”_ _

__“Do you want me to?” Iwaizumi asked, swiping his thumb under the brunette’s eye._ _

__“If you want it, too,” he said quietly, his cheeks pink from the embarrassment, or perhaps just the steam._ _

__Iwaizumi’s lips quirked and he gave a reassuring smile. “I am always happy to be with you, you know that.”_ _

__He smiled bashfully, unused to Iwaizumi speaking so sincerely. “I know that, but this is a little different, is it not?”_ _

__“Not to me,” he answered truthfully. “I’ve been with you since we were children- there’s no form in which I wouldn’t want you.”_ _

__Plush lips stretched to accommodate Oikawa’s wide smile, and he slung an arm around Iwaizumi’s neck, yanking him forward. “Iwa-chan, do you mean that?”_ _

__“Damnit, Oikawa!” Hajime yelled, his hands quickly finding purchase on the rim of the tub to stop himself from falling in. “Pay more attention, I could’ve fallen in, idiot!”_ _

__“Ne, Hajime,” Oikawa murmured, silencing the boy’s protests. “I want you.”_ _

__Iwaizumi’s grumbles died on his tongue, and he gulped audibly. He licked his lips and hesitantly nodded, letting a breath out as he leaned forward, lips slotting against Oikawa’s. His hand slipped back into the water and gently, as if reaching for a timid animal, landed on Oikawa’s leg, fingers splayed. He let it rest for a moment, a little baffled that he was holding Oikawa in real life and not just in his dreams, but was shocked back into reality by the whine that left the brunette’s lips.  
Hajime moved his hand up higher, digging his thumb into the muscle as he went. Once again, Oikawa’s legs fell open for him as much as they could, and the easy submission struct Hajime more than it should have- Oikawa trusted in him. He smiled against the other’s lips, his free hand wrapping around the back of Oikawa’s neck as he licked into his mouth. His other hand travelled up, until it wrapped around Oikawa’s length._ _

__Tooru jolted, and Hajime broke their kiss. “You okay?”_ _

__He laughed a little breathlessly. “I’m fine, I just wasn’t ready. I’m okay now.”_ _

__Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and pulled Oikawa close again. He held Oikawa in his other hand loosely, letting his fingers drift across the length. Oikawa whined and tilted his hips upwards, annoyed at Iwaizumi’s grazing hold._ _

__Laughing inwardly, Iwaizumi finally curled his fingers around Oikawa in a firm grip. Oikawa moaned into his mouth slightly, his fingers gripping onto Iwaizumi’s shoulders, as the raven began to pump his hand agonisingly slowly. It awakened the warmth in his gut, like blowing on the embers to keep the fire going, and he bit Iwaizumi’s lip._ _

__“Faster.”_ _

__“You’re always so impatient,” he murmured, but his hand sped up nonetheless._ _

__At the new speed Oikawa bit his lip and held back a whine. His brows were furrowed, and he clung to Iwaizumi tightly, trying to keep his hips from thrusting forward. Iwaizumi watched him intently, drinking in his reactions and trying to note what he liked, just in case this would be the only time he’d ever get to be with Oikawa like this. He wanted to commit every noise to memory, remember every whine that left his lips and the faces he pulled._ _

__Iwaizumi swiped his thumb over the slit, and Oikawa’s head tilted back, his adams apple bobbing as he gulped. “Hajime!”_ _

__Iwaizumi leaned forward and kissed at the expanse of Oikawa’s throat. He gently scraped his teeth against it, desperately holding back the urge to bite him, to mark the prince as his own- because as much as he may say it, Oikawa was not Iwaizumi’s to claim._ _

__As Iwaizumi kissed at a sensitive part of his neck, Oikawa groaned, his back bowing. “Faster, faster, please, God-“_ _

__Iwaizumi sped up, entranced as Oikawa’s eyes screwed shut and his mouth opened, lips trembling. He let his hand drift down to Oikawa’s chest and, as he twisted his hand over the head of Oikawa’s dick, he clasped a nipple in his other hand, pinching the nub gently._ _

__Oikawa shuddered, and his dick stiffened in Iwaizumi’s hand. He bit his lip as he came, fingers holding tight to Iwaizumi, his hips thrusting into the boy’s fist, splashing water up the sides of the tub. When he had finished he sank back and sucked in a breath, beginning to smile._ _

__Iwaizumi washed his hand in the water and sat back, head tilted. “That was fast.”_ _

__“S-shut up!” Oikawa squawked, face red. “It’s not my fault, okay? It feels a lot better when it’s not your own hand…”_ _

__Iwaizumi’s lips quirked in a smile but he said nothing; he knew that if it were Oikawa’s hands on him, he’d have came the minute Oikawa touched him. He stood up and grabbed the thick fluffy towel folded on the floor, holding it out for Oikawa to step into when he rose out of the water. Oikawa had his hands on the rim of the tub and, for a second, he looked embarrassed, but then he stood, maintaining eye contact with Hajime the entire time. Hajime let his eyes roam across his body, noting the erection that was just beginning to soften, and met Oikawa’s gaze again, the prince looking simply holding his arms out to let Iwaizumi dab at his skin.  
His mind wondered as he cleaned up the body in front of him. He felt as though there should be some residual awkwardness hanging between them, a sort of stumbling embarrassment that usually came with newfound intimacy, but there was none; he resumed his duties, and Oikawa still had that playful smile on his lips, and the air between them was calm. He didn’t know why he’d expected things to feel different- even after their first kiss, they hadn’t ever felt awkward in the other’s company…they were just natural in almost everything they did._ _

__He supposed he was thankful for that. He’d never liked awkwardness between them. He also supposed that he should be feeling some shame that he’d even indulged Oikawa; too often the voice in his head liked to remind him that Oikawa was unreachable to him, a future meant only to be dreamed about and not worked for. Still, Iwaizumi couldn’t listen to his guilt for long, not when Oikawa looked at him like that._ _

__“What are you thinking about?” The brunette asked, bundled up in his towel, his hair stuck to his head in a mess of wild strands._ _

__“How annoying you are,” he answered easily, rubbing the dampness off Oikawa’s hair gently._ _

__“Mean,” he said with a pout, a finger tugging on the front of Iwaizumi’s tunic. “I came in my bathwater. Isn’t that a little gross?”_ _

__“I’m not drawing you another bath,” Hajime growled, halting his drying of Oikawa’s hair._ _

__The taller boy chuckled, his eyes warm. “I know. Thank you, by the way. You made me feel really, really good, Iwa-chan…”_ _

__“Don’t just say those things, asshole,” he muttered, cheeks darkening. After a few beats of silence, he added: “Good, though. I’m…I’m glad that you liked it.”_ _

__“I thought about you doing that for so long,” the brunette admitted, looping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck to bring him closer._ _

__“You did?”_ _

__“Of course I did,” Oikawa laughs gently, dipping his head to skim his lips across Iwaizumi’s. “Do you not think about me?”_ _

__Hajime kissed him. He tried to be strong, knowing full well that acts like this occurring outside of marriage, and with someone of much higher standing than him, was sinful, to say the least. But Oikawa had always been the one to make him forget their inhibitions, wiping them away with a simple brush of their lips.  
Oikawa’s question hung in the air between them, but Iwaizumi knew he didn’t have to answer with words. Iwaizumi’s body was a traitor to his hormones; too often he’d been face down on his scratchy mattress, biting his fingers and hoping Daichi couldn’t hear the slow slide of his hips pushing into his fist. Oikawa plagued his thoughts day and night, and Iwaizumi knew that he was weak; all Oikawa had to do was ask, and Hajime would do anything._ _

__Pulling back, Iwaizumi crossed his arms, gentle demeanor hardening as he fell back into the role of servant. “Hurry up and get dressed already, you’re going to be late.”_ _

__A pair of arms circle his torso. “Let me take care of you.”_ _

__Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s hand brush the front of his slacks, which looked nearly ready to burst at the seams with the strain of his erection. He felt his hips move a little against his will, but shook his head. “We can’t, you really will be late.”_ _

__“I can make you cum quickly,” Oikawa whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe lightly._ _

__Hajime shivered and a small whine escaped his throat, but he grunted and forcibly stepped away from Tooru. “No, I’m not going to be responsible for you being late today, you have too much to do.”_ _

__Tooru looked at him dejectedly. “Don’t you want me?”_ _

__Iwaizumi sighed. “Of course I do, idiot, but we just don’t have time. C’mon, get dressed and I’ll brush your hair.”_ _

__Oikawa sulked as he threw on his clothes haphazardly, leading Iwaizumi to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he moved to fix the prince’s attire.  
“Listen,” he said curtly, “if you really wanna…take care of me, then I can come see you tonight, okay?”_ _

__Oikawa visibly brightened and he wrapped his arms around Hajime’s neck, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. “Okay.”_ _

__After Oikawa had been dried and dressed and brushed and polished and looked good enough to start the day, he was already ten minutes late to his tutoring, and Iwaizumi could only sigh as the brunette walked into his study hall, not a care in the world for the old man who sat with scrolls in front of him and a face like thunder. Iwaizumi bowed and apologised on his behalf, and then went to start about his own day, which consisted of cleaning Oikawa’s room, changing his sheets, bringing him his documents for the day, fetching meals from the kitchen, helping out for a little in the stables, and practicing with Irihata. All in all, he was rather busy, so why couldn’t he focus on anything other than a very familiar pair of chocolate brown eyes?_ _


	7. chapter 7

Iwaizumi checked the clock, and upon realising that Oikawa would be needing a light lunch soon, set off towards the kitchens. He made his way through the servants’ quarters, down to the cramped and bustling kitchen, packed with many older women and a few straggly boys, all rushing about as they started preparations for dinner. Iwaizumi, who had made enough trips to the kitchen to now be well known and liked among the staff, was greeted with a few pats on his arm as people brushed by him. He looked around until he saw a familiar head of silver hair, and with a grin he snuck up on the figure, quickly gripping onto their waist.

“Ah!” Suga yelped as he jumped, calming down when he saw it was only Iwaizumi. He batted him lightly with the dishtowel in his hand, but smiled nonetheless. “I wish you’d stop doing that, you know. Normal people just say ‘hello’.”

Iwaizumi leaned on the counter easily. “Hello, Suga.”

The blonde rolled his eyes. “Hello, Iwaizumi. What brings you to my kitchen?”

Suga had been working in the kitchen for over two years, starting when he and Hajime were just fifteen. He was a hard worker and a smooth charmer, easily winning over the hearts of all the kitchen staff in a matter of days. He’d won Daichi’s heart at first glimpse, as Iwaizumi was so used to hearing, and the blonde and himself had easily become close friends, mainly due to the fact that Suga would always sneak him some extra food when he could. Daichi and Suga had decided to keep their relationship a secret- much for the same reason as Oikawa and he- so Iwaizumi was the only one who knew. Although he’d never say, it warmed his heart that they trusted him enough to share such a big secret.

He picked up a chunk of carrot from Suga’s chopping board and popped it in his mouth. “The prince needs his lunch, so I’m here to get it.”

“Is that the time already?” Suga gasped, tucking his cloth into his belt and he began to chop his vegetables at a newfound pace. “I’m running behind! I’m sorry, I’ll have his lunch ready in five minutes.”

“Take your time, he could stand to learn a little patience,” Iwaizumi murmured, stepping back to give the shorter boy space to work.

Koushi clicked his tongue, lips quirking into a smile. “I’ll never understand how you can speak so brazenly about him, Iwaizumi. Anyone else would be terrified.”

“Nobody else spends as much time with him as I do,” Hajime countered, picking at a stray thread on his shirt. He really needed to save up for a new shirt soon. “Trust me, nine years is enough time to get past my fear of calling him out- sometimes I swear he winds me up for the fun of it.”

Suga stirred the broth absentmindedly, nimble fingers adding in pinches of numerous spices. Iwaizumi didn’t know what they were, but it smelled amazing, and he hummed appreciatively. Suga smiled. “I suppose so. Daichi never really speaks bad about him, you know what he’s like- loyal to the core. Here, taste this.”

Iwaizumi accepted the spoon Suga held out to his mouth, and licked his lips. “It’s delicious, as always.”

Suga lightly cupped his cheek in thanks, and scooped the soup into a bowl before placing it on a tray. He lay some slices of fresh bread next to it, slathered in butter. Iwaizumi poured some tea, and then carefully lifted the tray, balancing it on one hand.

He sighed. “Duty awaits. I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” the blonde agreed, already moving onto preparations for dinner. “Have fun!”

He rolled his eyes, voice thick with sarcasm. “Don’t I always?”

The lingering sound of Koushi laugh in his ears, Iwaizumi made his way back out to the field where he could hear the clashing of swords. He watched as Hanamaki fought against Matsukawa, the two of them grinning too much to take it seriously. They were spinning as they sparred, laughing when the other tripped over their own feet. Irihata clapped.

“That’s enough boys,” he said sternly. “Disband for lunch, and the rest of you will meet here again at noon. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” they chorused.

Oikawa turned around then, hair damp with sweat, and grinned. “Iwa-chan!”

“Sire,” Iwaizumi greeted in return. “I’ve collected your lunch from the kitchens, would you prefer to eat here or in your quarters?”

“Mm,” Oikawa considered briefly, “I guess in my quarters. I need to freshen up a bit anyway.”

“As you wish,” Hajime murmured, already turning.

“Iwaizumi, wait!” Hanamaki called, gaining his attention. “Aren’t you going to say hi to your two favourite knights?”

Iwaizumi chuckled when he felt Hanamaki’s arm sling around his shoulders. He glanced up. “Hello, village fools.”

The curly haired boy tilted his head, much more laid back than his pink haired counterpart. “Hey.”

“Why don’t you bring me food, huh?” Hanamaki teased, poking at Iwaizumi’s face.

The tan teen growled and batted his hand away. “Because I’m not paid to bring you food. If you feel like sending a few gold coins my way, then I’d be glad to.”

“A few? How expensive are your services?” Hanamaki gasped. “Prince Oikawa, you’re paying far too much.”

Oikawa waved his hand. “Ne, Iwa-chan’s services are worth every penny. I mean, he’s not really that nice to me, and he’s always grumpy, and he complains a lot and isn’t very cute-“

Iwaizumi grit his teeth in warning.

“But,” Oikawa continued, “he brings me my food on time, he’s never late, he does everything I ask him to, and he’s a real stick in the mud, which is boring normally but great for routine, and he’s so foul faced that no lady wants him, so all the attention goes to me!“

“Sire,” Iwaizumi quips, knowing he can not truly act out with Irihata watching, “you’re too kind. I am glad to be of service, it makes me happy to know that without me you would most definitely be late, go hungry, smell, and live in a pigsty. For all you are a wise and gracious prince, I know you are humble enough to admit that you lack certain basic skills.”

Matsukawa snickered loudly. “Okay yeah he’s definitely worth a few gold coins.”

Oikawa tutted, crossing his arms. “See what I mean? Not cute at all.”

Hajime sighed. “Sire, your food will go cold if you continue to waste time. Please, go inside so you may eat.”

Oikawa sheathed his sword and nodded, eyeing up the food. “Alright, alright. See you later Makki, Mattsun.”

“My Lord,” they chorused back.

Iwaizumi let Oikawa lead the way, strolling behind him. Oikawa’s senseless chatter filled the air all the way until they reached his room, and continued eves as he began to strip out of his armour and chuck it haphazardly onto the bed.

“And it’s like, I can see myself making the mistakes, but I can’t seem to fix them quick enough, you know? It’s annoying, because I- hey, help me out, would you? I can’t get this clip- well, I expect myself to do better than that!” he huffed, arms twisted as he tried to get the last of his equipment off.

Hajime sighed and sat the food on the table, bending to scoop up the various parts of metal. He rested them all on the cabinet, and turned to help Oikawa, his worn fingers freeing the clip in a single movement.

“You can’t be so hard on yourself, sire. You still have a lot to learn,” Hajime reminded softly.

“I guess so,” he admitted with a pout, “it’s just that I want to be the best already. I know that I’m the best knight out of the trainees, but I can do better, I can be better. They won’t let me practice as much as I want though!”

“You do have a schedule you need to follow, and for good reason,” Iwaizumi says sternly. “How are you going to be a great King if you know nothing of your country’s history; if you cannot wield any weapon with ease; if you cannot bond with your knights?”

Oikawa plops down in front of his soup with a huff. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Hajime laughs. “Eat, my Lord.”

“Iwa-chan, enough with that,” Oikawa says pointedly, dipping his bread into his soup. “You know I hate it, just call me my name.”

“Sorry, it’s habit,” Iwaizumi said as he shrugged.

Oikawa took another spoonful of his soup and hummed. His eyes flitted to Iwaizumi. “No need to stand, you can sit.”

Iwaizumi hesitated and then sat down, his arms resting on the table. His gaze followed the graves and dents in the wood, watching the swirling shades of brown as they blended together.

“The table surely isn’t that entertaining,” Oikawa joked.

“It’s more entertaining than you,” he scoffed, lips twitching when Oikawa’s face split into a grin.

“You’re wrong there, I’m afraid. Have you ever even seen me? I’m the most charming man in this whole Kingdom, I could have anyone I wanted with a single look,” the brunette gushed, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Have you got something stuck in your eye?” Iwaizumi asked with a bubbling laugh. “Don’t pull that shit with me, it doesn’t work. You look stupid.”

Oikawa bit into his bread and mock glared at his friend. “Stupid Iwa-chan. You’re too much of a brute to be wooed by me anyway! You wouldn’t appreciate my subtle charms.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and smirked. “That’s because I’m the only one who knows what an ass you are.”

“But you still want to be with me,” he murmured softly, this time with a genuine smile.

Hajime felt his face blush, but he didn’t look away. “I must be stupid.”

Oikawa ducked his head and went back to eating his soup, although his hand had abandoned the bread to wrap around Hajime’s fingers instead. He ate quickly, having worked up an appetite after training, and he polished his meal off in a matter of minutes, leaning back with a satisfied sigh and soup on his face.  
Iwaizumi shook his head and reached for the rag tucked into his pocket. He wiped at Oikawa’s mouth, amusement in his tone. “Honestly, seventeen years old and you still get food all over your face.”

“Hey!” squawked the prince indignantly. “I’m still young, I’m allowed to make some mess.”

“You can’t be dining with royalty and princesses with table manners like that,” Hajime scolded fondly. “you are old enough to eat proper.”

Oikawa grumbled leaning his head on his hand. His thumb started to rub against Hajime’s palm. “I don’t think I want to be older.”

Hajime frowned. “Why on earth not?"

"Next year I will be eighteen, Iwa-chan. My life will be over."

"What are you even talking about? I’m looking forward to being eighteen.” Hajime huffed. "Plus, you've still to celebrate your seventeenth this year- do not rush so far ahead of yourself."

“Fine for you, because you are not a prince,” Oikawa quipped lightly. “For me, eighteen is officially me ‘becoming a man’, according to my mother. Father will start to send me on quests, and enter me in tournaments, and I will have to make my mark on the people, show them that I am to be a suitable King for them, when the time comes. It’s scary knowing that’s what’s waiting for me.”

“You don’t want those things?” Hajime asked gently. He was always under the impression that Oikawa yearned to lead.

“Of course I want them! It’s just that I’m not quite ready to give up my life now,” he sighed. “I turn seventeen this year- I still have relative freedom: I am not asked to sit in any meetings, my days are filled with only training and lessons, and I have time to just relax with you or Makki and Mattsun. My time is limited- when I turn eighteen, those things have to be pushed aside, I need to be serious.”

Hajime thought it over, before standing next to Oikawa, and placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “You don’t have to give your life up-you can still have a lot of those things, you know. You’ll still have me, and God knows you’ve never managed to be professional with me. Makki and Mattsun know that you will have a greater responsibility when you come of age, and…I believe that they will support you, even if it means your relationship with them has to change.”

Oikawa bit his lip in worry. “I have never doubted that, I know I am fortunate enough to have friends like you three. I’m just worried that I will no longer like myself if I have to change who I am. I look at my father, and all I see is anger. He’s so stern, and strict, and I-I don’t want to turn into that! I want to remain as I am- I like making people smile! I like being charming and bantering with people!”

“Growing up doesn’t mean you have to lose your charisma or your sense of fun, Oikawa,” the raven reasoned, leaning down to lay his face against Oikawa’s neck, “it just means that you show people there’s more to you than that; it’s your chance to show them that you’re strong, just, smart, and compassionate and that they can trust you.”

There’s quiet for a bit, and then Oikawa’s voice is small. “You really think I’m all those things?”

“It’s going to come back and bite me in the ass later, but yes, I do,” he said with a small smile, bumping his nose against Oikawa’s.

The brunette stood up suddenly, twisting his body so he could wrap his arms around Hajime and squeeze. He nuzzled the tan neck, broad palms spread across Hajime’s bony back, and thanked him gratefully. “You really are too good to me.”

“Trust me, I know,” he teased, if only to get Oikawa’s smile back.

The brunette only cupped his jaw with a tenderness that made his heart ache, and slotted their lips together, stealing the breath from Hajime’s lungs. He pulled back, resting their foreheads together, and laughed quietly. “I think that, as long as you are with me, I won’t fear anything.”

Iwaizumi blushed, but found himself unable to look away from the sincerity in Oikawa’s warm brown eyes. He let out a shaky breath, fingers clutched in the fabric of Tooru’s tunic, his voice soft. “Then I guess, for the sake of the Kingdom, I will never leave you.”

“Promise?” He asks, and it is fragile and quiet, hanging by a thread that could so easily be broken by Hajime, if he wished it.

Iwaizumi gulped, but pressed their lips together again. “Promise.”


	8. chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illness attacks someone close to Oikawa, and he struggles to cope.

Oikawa’s mother fell sick two months before his seventeenth birthday. The heavy rainfall of April had sent a chill into her bones and an ache to her lungs, which wouldn’t dissipate no matter how hard they tried. Soon, chaste coughs became bone rattling hacks, a desperate sucking for air that sent silence throughout the castle whenever it was heard. Her fever spiked, and she weakened rapidly, the once proud Queen forced to lay in her bed as the hours passed.

Oikawa hadn’t taken the development well. He had withdrawn, unable to focus on any of his tasks as his mind worried over his mother. His nails, once immaculate and well-shaped, had been bitten down to stubs, and if it weren’t for Iwaizumi carefully washing him and brushing his hair every day, he would have ignored that also.

“I’m scared, Iwa-chan,” he admitted as Iwaizumi dressed him for the day. “I’ve never seen her so pale before, she looks so sickly.”

“She is sick, after all,” Iwaizumi said, but at Oikawa’s glare he reworded himself. “Just because she is unwell doesn’t mean she won’t get better, sire. She’s a strong woman and always has been- she can pull through it.”

Oikawa sighed as Iwaizumi pulled his coat on for him. “I know, but I am afraid to hope that she will improve; hope is so frighteningly volatile…if she doesn’t improve, then it shatters, and I with it.”

“Hope is a powerful tool. Even when you don’t get the outcome you wanted, having hope in a dire situation, and not regretting that hope, is an amazing thing. It’s the trait of a King, for sure,” Iwaizumi said, brushing a thumb under the prince’s eye. “To have faith in your people, to never doubt them or their strength, even when it fails...it shows the goodness of your heart. Don’t be afraid to hope, my Lord.”

Oikawa tilted his head, delicate curls sweeping across his face as he studied Iwaizumi. “Sometimes, you say things like this, and I wonder if you’re far wiser than you let on, Iwa-chan.”

“Well, I’m stuck with you somehow, so I can’t be that wise,” he mumbled, stepping back and crossing his arms across his chest.

Oikawa laughed, but it was small. He reached out and clasped Iwaizumi’s hand in his tightly. “I will keep hope, for everyone’s sake. I need her to be okay, Hajime, I can’t do this without her. You’ve seen my father, we can’t- I can’t be alone with him.”

Oikawa had always gotten on better with his mother, sharing many of his softer more charming qualities from her; the two of them were delicate but strong, beautiful but focused, and they even shared the same warm brown gaze, wide eyes framed with thick dark lashes. In contrast, the King was harsh and strict, with a touch that knew no softness, and a duty to his people so strong it overlooked all else. He saw Oikawa as a time-waster, a daydreamer, and berated him constantly for it.

Iwaizumi gripped his hand back. “You won’t be alone. No matter what happens in your life, you know that I am by your side.”

“If the men in this kingdom were even half as loyal as you are, we could conquer the world,” Oikawa whispered, leaning forward to softly kiss Iwaizumi. “Thank you for calming me down. You’re right, my mother is a strong woman, I know she can pull through this.”

Iwaizumi bumped their foreheads together. “Of course she can. Now, get to training, you know how Irihata complains when you’re late.”

“Spar with me?”

“I have a lot of work to do…” Iwaizumi said, frowning.

“Please?” Oikawa asked, looking down at Hajime with large doe eyes.

Hajime cursed inwardly- how was he supposed to say no to that? “Fine, but don’t complain when your lunch is late.”

The prince laughed, bumping their noses together. “Thanks, Iwa-can.”  
***  
Oikawa’s mother coughed up blood a week after they spoke. It stained the tissue she held weakly in her hand, her once luminous skin pale and waxy as she lay, shallow breaths leaving her cracked lips. Her eyes drifted lazily over to them, and she gave a weak smile.

“How unfortunate you had to see me like this,” she whispered sadly.

Oikawa took her hand immediately, his face pained. “I am never unfortunate to be in your company, no matter your state, mother.”

Hajime stood by his own mother, her hand resting on his shoulder. She squeezed it tightly, sending him a tight smile before she spoke. “Please, my Lady, do not think of yourself as a burden.”

Eri looked at Hitoka with fondness in her eyes. “Am I not? Here, you have sat by my side every day for weeks, doing almost everything for me. Surely you are tired?”

Hitoka shook her head profusely. “Never, my Lady. I serve you with honour and compassion. It is my greatest wish to be by your side to nurse you back to health.”

She gives a weak chuckle, but the laughter fades from her eyes when it turns into a cough. Immediately Hitoka was moving Tooru to the side as she pulled the woman into a sitting position, murmuring in her ear as she rubbed at her back.

“There, there, my Lady,” she hushes as the coughs die down. “You are okay, I’ve got you. Hajime, pass me that water.”

Hajime grabbed the pitcher of water, immediately filling up the goblet by the queen’s side. He passed it to his mother and watched as she helped the queen take a few slow sips.

Eri turned her head when she’d had enough. Her voice was low, laced with embarrassment. “Thankyou, Hajime-kun. How pitiful that you must see the Queen like this, hm?”

Hajime dropped down onto one knee immediately, his hand on his heart. “Never, my Lady. You have never been, and will never be, pitiful to me; you blessed my mother with a job, and later me. If it weren’t for you, we would be starving and freezing, and most surely dead by now. You are the wisest, and kindest lady I have ever met, and perhaps the strongest, too. Please, do not look down upon yourself now, for I surely don’t.”

Eri smiled sweetly, her frail hand reaching out to cup Hajime’s face. “Stand, my boy. Thank you for your kind words, Hajime-kun, I feel as though they have rejuvenated my spirits, if only a little.”

As Hajime stood, Eri turned to Hitoka. “I have said many times, my friend, but you have raised a fine son. He will make somebody very happy, someday.”

Tooru placed a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, his eyes glistening with tears as he gave a wobbly smile. “He will.”

Hajime ducked his head from the praise, not expecting it- he had only said what was in his heart, and yet he could feel his own throat close up slightly.

Tooru brushed hair back from his mother’s face. “You will get better, won’t you? Hajime is right- you are strong, Mother.”

“Strength cannot overcome death, my love,” she said gently, kissing his palm. “I will do my best to stay by your side.”

Hitoka smiled at Oikawa softly, looking every bit the same as Iwaizumi. She had the same thick dark hair and tan skin, the only difference being that her eyes were a deep dark brown, almost as black as her hair. “The court physicians are doing everything they can, sire. I, too, am doing my best to help your mother recover.”

Oikawa nodded once, shakily. “Yes, thank you.”

Eri took in a particularly sharp breath, and winced. She opened her eyes, looking apologetic. “I think I should like to retire now.”

Tooru took his hand back, biting his lip. “O-of course. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

“Tooru,” she said softly, catching his gaze. “Do not look so sad, child. It does not matter where I am in the world, I will always be there with you. I won’t leave you.”

“Promise?” he said with a choked chuckle, quickly wiping at his eyes.

“I promise.”

A they left the room, Oikawa squeezed Iwaizumi’s hand as tight as he could.  
Oikawa couldn’t abide a broken promise.


	9. chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa's nightmare comes true.

Oikawa’s mother died on June 3rd.

It had started out as a normal day, but Iwaizumi supposed that was the way of death; it lurked in the background, shifting through the shadows as it waited to strike, like a lion marking a gazelle. As oblivious of Iwaizumi was to her impending end, the Queen was not: she called for Oikawa just after lunch, summoning him to her chambers.

Oikawa was brushing through the horse’s mane when Hitoka came into view, running through the pastures as fast as she could. Iwaizumi, who was gathering equipment, dropped it and ran to meet her, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong, Mother?”

“It’s the Queen, she-she’s called for Prince Tooru,” Hitoka said, grasping her son’s hand. When Oikawa jogged up beside Iwaizumi, she bowed. “My Lord, your mother has requested you get to her as quickly as possible.”

“Is she okay?” he asked urgently, grabbing Hitoka’s shoulders.

“I-I do not think so, my Lord,” she answered, eyes glazing over with tears. “She is barely breathing, the court physicians are in there now.”

Oikawa ran off in a sprint, leaving Iwaizumi with his mother in shock. He looked at her, suddenly unsure of what to do, and his mother took his arm. “Go, I will catch up with you. Run, before the prince lets his emotions loose.”

Iwaizumi turned on his heel and sprinted through the castle grounds, twisting and turning round the hallways until he burst into the Queen’s room, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so.

“You!” the King said, brows furrowed. “Why are you here? Leave, boy.”

Eri coughed weakly, drawing their attention. “No…I want him...to stay…”

The King turned towards her, Iwaizumi forgotten. “Do not waste your strength so, my dear.”

The court physicians were wiping the sweat from her forehead and mixing poultices next to her bedside, murmuring and moving and all trying to talk to each other at once.

“Mother?” Oikawa said, pushing past the helpers to reach her bedside. “Mother, I’m here. I came as soon as you called for me. What’s wrong? Why can’t she breathe?”

The head physician turned towards the young prince. “Her lungs have given up, sire. Her heart is working twice as hard to keep her breathing.”

“Fix her!” Oikawa screamed, eyes welling up. “Why aren’t you helping her! What’s wrong with you?”

“My Lord, we are doing our best-“

“Liar!” he spat out angrily. “She’s going to die, you need to help her! Stop messing around and do as I say or I’ll have you executed!”

“You will do no such thing,” said a gravelly voice, and Oikawa was grabbed by the King and hauled back. His lips were set in a tight line, face pale. “You have no right to make those decisions, you foolish child. You’ve had many weeks to face this- you should have known to prepare yourself.”

“What are you saying?” the brunette asked in shock, the tears dripping down his face.

“Your mother is dying, and there is nothing anyone can do to save her,” he said factually, his voice hard. “Acting like a brat will not change that, nor will your tears. Enough, Tooru.”

Oikawa pulled himself out of the King’s grip and flung himself towards Iwaizumi, the other boy steadying him easily. He looked at his father, furious. “How can I be the fool, when it is you that speaks with no emotion? She is your wife, your Queen- my mother! How can you see her dying and not care? You don’t love her-“

“You know nothing of love!” the man roared, spittle flying. “Stop your nonsense now! You are nothing but a child, and it is time you stopped acting as if you are a man. You know nothing, my son, and you would do well to remember your place! I am the ruler of this Kingdom, not you! You have had enough time to grow up and accept this, and yet here you stand, babbling like a child. You have shown me you are nowhere near ready to rule. I am disappointed in you, Tooru.”

Tooru sucked in a breath, his bottom lip trembling. Silence spread throughout the room, the father and son looking at each other with fists clenched and words on the tip of their tongue, but then the silence was broken by a frail voice.

“Please…enough,” Eri whispered, her eyes cracking open. “I want you all to leave.”

“My love?” the King asked, facing her.

“Go,” she said, and coughed weakly. “I wish to speak with Tooru, and Hajime.”

Hajime startled at the sound of his own name- he hadn’t expected that. From the silence in the room, nobody else had either. The staff immediately bowed and left, leaving only Tooru, Hajime and the King in the room.

He bent down next to her, voice calm. “Are you sure?”

She nodded once, too tired to speak.

King Hiro stood up straight, and after a moment, walked out the room, not looking back. He shut the thick wooden door behind him, and the resounding click only served to highlight the loud rattle of Eri’s breaths in the quiet room.

“Mama,” Oikawa cooed, reaching for her hand, “Mama, please, don’t leave me. I need you, you can’t leave me.”

She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “Hush, now. Tooru, I am so proud of you. Watching you grow up has been the biggest pleasure in my life, and I am so thankful that my son has grown into such a fine young man. You are going to be the best King that these lands have ever seen, my love, I know it.”

Tears dripped down Tooru’s face, and he choked on a sob. “You can still watch me, Mama. You don’t have to go just yet, please don’t go just yet…I’m going to be seventeen soon, don’t you want to be there? I need you to stay with me, I’m not ready to be without you yet…”

“You will never be ready,” she said with a small smile, her eyelids fluttering. “But you will manage it, because I believe in you, and your strength. You are everything I could have hoped for in a son, Tooru, and when...when it’s your time, you are going to be a mighty King.”

Oikawa sobbed loudly, clutching her hand tightly in his as he shook his head. “Please don’t leave me, I’m so scared, Mama.”

“Hajime,” she breathed, and he was by her side in an instant.

“My Lady,” he said, ducking his head.

“I am so proud of the man you are,” she whispered gently. “Ever since you were a boy, you have shown loyalty, determination, pride, strength and honesty, and you have help shape my son into the man he is. For that, I will always be grateful.”

“My Lady, I…” he faltered, choosing instead to hold her other hand, biting his lips against the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill over.

“I have a request of you,” she asked him, dark hair spilling over her pillow and separating like the roots of a tree.

“Anything.”

“Stay by Tooru’s side. Never leave him, even when you may want to; he needs you, perhaps more than he knows yet, and I ask you…please, protect him. Nurture him, help him, and help him grow into the King I know he can be.” She said solemnly. “Can you promise me that?”

Hajime kissed her hand, his eyes earnest as he held her gaze. “I promise, my Lady. You don’t have to worry any longer- I will protect him with my life.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, the name garbled through his closing throat.

Eri smiled at him, and even though she was at death’s door, Hajime thought she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “Thank you.”

Then, she closed her eyes, her voice reducing to nothing but a whisper. “I love you so, so much. Good bye, my love.”

Oikawa sobbed, draping himself across her chest. “Mama! Mama, please, please don’t go. I love you, I-I need you, I’m not ready! Don’t go, don’t leave me, Mama, Mama-please!”

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi choked out, feeling the hand in his slacken completely. “Tooru-“

“Don’t leave me!” Oikawa cried, his chest heaving as he gripped at her hand tightly, lifting it to his mouth as he pressed kisses to it. “Mother, come back to me, please just open your eyes, and-“

“Tooru!” Iwaizumi said, raising his voice.  
Oikawa lifted his head and looked at the servant, who was standing with tears dripping down his face and his lip trembling. Iwaizumi still held the queen’s hand, but it was slack in his. He started straight at the prince, sucking in a quick breath.

“She’s gone, Tooru,” he said quietly.

His words suddenly made the silence in the room all the more deafening, the lack of raspy breaths hitting Oikawa like a brick wall. He gritted his teeth, and picked up the jug of water, chucking it at Iwaizumi. It hit him in the head and smashed as he fell backwards, surrounded by the shards. Water covered his clothes, and blood dripped down his temple, but he pushed himself to his feet shakily, wiping at his eyes. He ignored the flash of pain that surged when he stood.

“Tooru-“

“Go,” he spat, eyes shut tight, “just…just go.”

Iwaizumi bowed his head and made his way out of the room, walking slowly until he reached the throne room, bustling with anxious staff. The King sat in his throne, face drawn tight. When Hajime walked in, they fell silent.

“What happened to you, boy? Why are you hurt?” the King asked in confusion.

People started to bustle around him, but Hajime did not care. With his soaked clothed and blood covered face, he dropped to the floor on his knees, pressing his nose to the floor in the lowest bow he could possible manage.  
His voice rang out in the room.

“The Queen is dead.”


	10. chapter 10

Oikawa sealed himself away after that. He locked his chamber doors and wouldn’t open them no matter how much Iwaizumi pleaded, his tactics ranging from soft coercing to banging his fist on the door. Iwaizumi would leave his food on a platter at the foot of the door, but when he would return to collect it, it was still untouched. He was worried, hearing Oikawa’s sobs throughout the room when he laid his forehead against the partition.

“Please,” he begged the night before the funeral, “let me help you. Let me in.”

He waited, but was greeted with silence. Hajime sighed, but couldn’t be angry at the other boy- it had only been two days since the queen’s passing, and her loss had affected them all. The Kingdom itself seemed to be in mourning, a gloom resting over the people as they trudged about, the usual lively spirit of the town gone.  
He could feel it as he walked through the dirt paths, watching as children simply sat and picked at the grass instead of running and playing as they should have been. It saddened him greatly; there was a great loneliness inside him, one that was usually filled with a handful of a cheerful brunette, but Oikawa didn’t want to see him right now, and as much as it hurt, Iwaizumi understood.

As he made his way back up to the castle, basket full of new fabrics for Oikawa’s seamstress to turn into outfits, he spotted a familiar head of curly brown hair in the gardens, the tufts sticking out above the leaves. Iwaizumi bit his lip, unsure of whether he should interrupt, and decided that he would just observe to make sure the prince was okay.

Walking quietly, he tip-toed into the gardens, holding his breath as he edged closer, peeking out as he watched Oikawa sit at the pond, poking at it with a stick. The wind rustled at his hair, and Iwaizumi could see a hint of his face- a strong jaw and a straight nose, an arched brow and a plush, if slightly downturned, pair of lips. A pang of longing uncurled in his chest as he stared, wishing he could hold Oikawa in his arms.

“Are you going to just stand there or sit down?” the brunette said quietly, startling him.

“S-sorry, sire,” Iwaizumi said, ducking his head as he stepped forward. “I wasn’t meaning to pry.”

“What were you doing then?” Oikawa asked, with a brow raised.

“I…I just wanted to see you, my Lord. I’ve been worried,” Iwaizumi admitted.

Oikawa sighed. “I know. Everyone’s been worried about me, badgering me and pestering me, asking if I’m okay. It’s all very annoying, especially when I just wish to be left alone.”

Hajime’s face flushed in embarrassment. “Of course, sire. I’m sorry to have disturbed you, I’ll leave you to your peace.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said softly, not looking at him. “Shut up and sit down already.”

Iwaizumi walked towards him slowly, setting the basket down as he lowered himself to the ground. He kept space between them, unsure of Oikawa’s mood and how best to handle it. He gnawed at his lip, not even daring to look at the prince, instead choosing to face forward.

“It’s silly to ask me if I’m okay when my mother has just died,” Oikawa said finally. “Of course I’m not okay- who would be? They only want me to be okay because it would be a load off their mind…the sullen spoiled prince is fine and everything can go back to normal and we can pretend like the queen hasn’t died and we haven’t been torn apart by it, right? They don’t care about me, not really.”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth then closed it again, letting out a small sigh. His voice was small. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t think that. I just want to help you.”

“Why?” Oikawa asked, suddenly looking very tired.

“Why?”

“Yes, why? Why are you still being nice to me? Why are you even talking to me right now? Iwa-chan, I hurt you…I actually hurt you,” he said, voice trailing off to a whisper.

“This?” Iwaizumi said, lifting a hand to feel along his stitches. One of the physicians had quickly stitched him back up and given him a poultice to keep the infection out. Truthfully, he’d forgotten about it the moment he’d been patched up. “This is nothing, it’s fine.”

“It’s not!” Oikawa snapped, hanging his head into his hands. “It’s not, so stop pretending like it is. You were bleeding, and I-I didn’t even think, I just threw it, I was so angry and- “

“It’s not your fault,” Iwaizumi said immediately. “You had every right to be angry, and you still do. Nobody expects you to take this well, Oikawa, least of all me; I know what you’re like, and I know you need time to deal with this and you need to let some of that anger out if you ever want to feel better. If I can help in that, then I’ll let you hit me as many times as you want.”

“I don’t want to hit you, I never did,” he sniffed pathetically. “You probably hate me.”

Iwaizumi frowned. “Oi, are you even listening to me? I just said it’s fine. I don’t hate you, idiot. I wouldn’t be here if I hated you.”

“Why are you here then?” Oikawa said, peeking at him.

“Because…” Iwaizumi said, forcing down his embarrassment. “I miss you, Tooru. It’s only been two days, and it’s boring without you, and I miss you, and I’m upset and worried, and I don’t know what to do if I can’t be next to you. I have nothing to do to take my mind off it, and I couldn’t talk to you, and I just- I don’t know. I just wanted to be next to you.”

“I don’t know if I can talk about anything yet,” he whispered.

“That’s fine, I don’t need you to talk. I just need you to let me back in,” Iwaizumi murmured.

Seconds passed, and then Oikawa’s hand reached out and wrapped around his, softly. “You were never locked out, stupid Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi clasped Oikawa’s hand tightly, content to just sit as the breeze lifted the leaves beside them. The world seemed quiet, the wildlife hiding, but the silence was not as solitary as before; now it seemed almost…calm.

“I really am sorry for hurting you,” Oikawa said finally. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. I…it scares me that I did that. I’ve never been one to act upon my temper- that was always more of my father’s forte- and I’m worried that I’m more like him than I think. I don’t want to be like him.”

Iwaizumi scooted closer, slipping his hand around Oikawa’s waist. “It’s fine. I don’t think you’re like your father just because you got angry; people get angry all the time, but that doesn’t mean they’re angry people, you know? You’re just like your mother, Tooru: you’re soft, and kind, and strong, and charming, and fair. You like a challenge and you work hard for what you want. Sure, you have qualities of your father- you’re mostly level-headed, intelligent, you have amazing agility and speed and you fight like you were made for it- but that doesn’t mean you’re exactly him, or even exactly like your mother. You’re your own person, a mix of each of them, but with your own qualities, too.”

Tooru hiccupped, laying his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “I miss her, Iwa-chan. I really, really miss her.”

“I know,” he soothed, kissing the top of Oikawa’s head. “I miss her, too. I owe everything to your mother.”

“Does it ever get easier?” Oikawa asked suddenly. “Losing a parent?”

Iwaizumi thought about it. “I don’t think it’s the same for me, since I lost my father when I was very young. I still miss him, and I have a few memories, but I’ve had a long time to deal with that. My mother would probably be able to answer it better- she really loved my father. He was everything to her, but when he died she never had time to grieve, because we had no money and she had to provide for us. She went straight into work, and I followed her.”

Oikawa blinked at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I guess that, yeah, it gets easier. You adapt, and you learn to accept that that person won’t be physically in your life any more,” he mused, “but you can still have memories of them, you know? And just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t still a part of your life- here, it’s like this, look.”

Iwaizumi leaned forward and tapped his finger lightly in the centre of the pond. It rippled out, all the way to the edges of the pool, and he tugged Oikawa closer.  
“So, the person that died, they’re the fist ripple. They’re the impact of my finger in the water, right? When the first ripple goes, you can’t get it back, but what you can get is everything it passed on. See all the other ripples that stemmed off it? Those are the memories you have, and the words they’ve said, and the lessons they’ve taught you.” He explained gently. “Sure, the person might be gone, but the evidence of their existence is apparent in the rest of your life, and how you live.”

Oikawa was quiet and then: “Hajime, sometimes I wonder whether you only pretend to be an idiot- that was the most poetic thing you’ve ever said.”

Hajime whacked him round the head. “Shut up, crappykawa!”

Oikawa chuckled then, and tilted his head up, lifting a hand to cup Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Really, though, you always know just what to say. Thank you, again.”

Iwaizumi blushed, but leaned into Oikawa’s touch. “You know you can always talk to me, right? I know I’m not that great with my emotions, and I’m rough and blunt and I don’t always understand, but I’ll do my best and I’ll listen.”

“Hush, you’re perfect,” Oikawa murmured, leaning in to kiss Iwaizumi sweetly. He pulled back, and bumped their noses together. “Just stay with me, and I’ll get through anything.”

Iwaizumi nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. Then: “Can…can I stay with you tonight?”

Oikawa looked surprised- Iwaizumi had never stayed the full night before. “Want to keep an eye on me?”

“It’s more for my sake than yours, actually,” Hajime admitted with a shrug. “I just want to be near you tonight.”

“Of course you can,” Tooru said, settling back beside him. “I think I’d like to be near you, too.”

Night time found Iwaizumi pulling the clothes from Oikawa’s body, folding them neatly on his chair whilst he waited for the bathwater to cool. He pulled the laces from Oikawa’s boots as he sat on the bed, easing the worn leather off his feet. His hands rubbed at Oikawa’s feet, thumbs digging into the arch and pushing against the pads, working out the aches and pains of the day. Oikawa closed his eyes as Iwaizumi worked, content to let Iwaizumi work away.

“Iwa-chan’s foot rubs are the best,” he said idly.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. C’mon, you need to get washed. You haven’t bathed in two days.”

“Iwa-chan! Shut up!” he whined, hastily getting to his feet as he stalked towards the tub. Oikawa eased down his drawers and kicked them off, and then found himself enveloped by a pair of thin arms wrapping around his torso.

Iwaizumi lay his head in the junction at Oikawa’s neck, pulling the boy against him with a content sigh. “I really missed you.”

Oikawa tilted his head back, feeling the warmth of Iwaizumi’s bare skin on his. “I know. I missed you, too. I wanted to let you in when you were at my door, but I didn’t want you to see me. I didn’t want anyone to see me, really.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, it’s okay.” Iwaizumi said, kissing his shoulder as he drew back, taking Oikawa’s hand as the brunette slid into the tub.

As Iwaizumi began the familiar motions of dragging the cloth along Oikawa’s skin and rubbing his hands into the thick brows curls, he could see Oikawa’s eyes drooping heavily as he leaned forward, breaths slowing.

“Are you tired?”

Oikawa grunted. “Didn’t sleep much…”

“Then you will sleep tonight, at least,” the raven murmured, pouring water over Oikawa’s hair to wash the bubbles out.

Oikawa hummed, content to let Iwaizumi wash and dab and scrub at his skin until he deemed the dirt gone. He stood up, hand wrapped around Iwaizumi’s wrist, and found himself wrapped in a thick fluffy towel.

“It’s warm,” he commented.

“I left it sitting on the chair by the fire,” Hajime murmured, focusing as he carefully patted at Oikawa’s hair. “I know how much you whine when you’re cold.”

Oikawa huffed, but let Iwaizumi dry him, and eventually stepped into his pyjama bottoms- a thin pair of slacks. He sat still as the servant then brushed his hair, gently combing out all the tugs and knots that had accumulated in the absence of proper care.

“There,” Iwaizumi said, setting the brush down. “You’re ready for bed.”

Oikawa yawned as if on cue, and meandered over to his large bed, plopping down on the soft feather filled mattress. He looked at Iwaizumi expectantly. “Aren’t you going to bed, too?”

“I still have to wash and change,” he reminded Oikawa, pulling forward a small pale of water that was lukewarm at best.  
He pulled his top off and reached into the bucket, carefully washing himself free of the grime for the day. He scrubbed at his head with the soap, the strands refusing to lie flat even when wet, and carefully toed off his boots and slacks, washing his legs and feet.  
He noticed Oikawa watching him with a hawk’s eye, and raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to take my underwear off now, so don’t keep looking if you’re going to get all weird.”

“I’m not being weird!” the brunette huffed, but his cheeks darkened nonetheless. He looked away to give Iwaizumi privacy. “I was just looking at how skinny you are. Do you eat enough?”

“Suga feeds me fine,” Iwaizumi said as he washed himself. “Servants don’t get as much food as you do, Oikawa. We’re all skinny.”

“Not true, Dai-chan is quite robust,” Oikawa pondered. “Who’s Suga?”

“I suppose he does the most physical activity out of us all,” Iwaizumi said with a shrug. “Suga works in the kitchens.”

Oikawa looked over at him with his brows drawn. “Do you think she’ll feed you more if I asked her to?”

Iwaizumi laughed, and wrapped himself in a smaller, scratchier towel. “Suga's a boy. He already slips me extras as it is, any more and he’ll be accused of favouritism. You just think I’m skinny because you’re starting to bulk out with all that training.”

“I guess so,” the brunette said, watching as Iwaizumi stepped into a pair of threadbare slacks. When Iwaizumi blew out the candle and settled down on the floor, Oikawa frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Um…sleeping?”

“Down there?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Iwa-chan,” he said exasperatedly, “get up here! My bed’s big enough for two.”

Hajime hesitated. “I wasn’t sure if it was okay for me to sleep in your bed.”

“Of course it is, I won’t have you lying on the floor like a beggar,” Oikawa tutted, reaching out and clasping Hajime’s hand, pulling him up and into the bed. Once he had settled, and Oikawa had pulled the covers over both of them, he turned and snuggled into Iwaizumi, wrapping a leg around him and a hand around his waist. “You’re my equal in my eyes and you’ll share my bed as such.”

Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around Oikawa, humming happily as their bare chests pressed together. Oikawa was clinging to him, wrapping around him like ivy, and he scoffed. “You’re practically attached to me, Oikawa.”

“Yeah, well…I’m not letting go of you,” Oikawa said, his tone light but the meaning hanging in the air between them.

Iwaizumi ran a hand through Oikawa’s hair, and kissed his forehead. “Good thing I don’t want to go, then.”

“I like lying with you like this,” admitted the prince, who’s face Hajime knew would be red, even if he couldn’t see it in the dark. “It feels nice, and warm, and even though you’re really bony, you’re comfortable, too.”

Hajime flicked him. “Stop calling me bony, I can still beat your ass up any day.”

Oikawa snorted. “Sure you can.”

Hajime smiled slightly. “I like it, too. If you repeat this to anyone I will literally assassinate you, but…It was miserable without you. I wanted nothing more than to be back by your side.”

Oikawa buried his face in the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, holding tightly to the other body. Silence fell between them, only the delicate hoot of an owl outside disrupting the quiet, and Iwaizumi thread his fingers through Oikawa’s hair until the other clutched at him, chest trembling as he cried quietly. The tears landed on Iwaizumi’s skin, but Oikawa didn’t speak, and neither did he; he simply played with his hair, planting soft fleeting kisses on his forehead and hushing him gently until his sobs quietened to hiccups, until they, too, dissipated as sleep finally claimed the exhausted prince.

When he could feel the steady rise of Oikawa’s chest against his own, Iwaizumi let his eyes close, and let his own tiredness tug at his consciousness. He wasn’t the best person to console the prince, but he would damn well try.


	11. chapter 11

The funeral took place at dusk, where the sky was a brilliant purple. Warm gold streaked across the sky, the clouds so soft they looked painted on. It was a beautiful day, but nobody wore smiles.

Iwaizumi had woken up at the crack of dawn, surprised to find himself not on the scratchy mattress in his own room, but on a soft mattress with a thick duvet covering him, and a snoring brunette sprawled across his chest.

Iwaizumi kissed the top of his head, rousing him. “Oikawa, wake up.”

“No,” he mumbled, wrapping around Iwaizumi more.

Iwaizumi could tell it was still early, as the first rays of morning sunlight had only just begun to creep into the room, and he didn’t think that even the comfiest of beds could have changed years of routine early waking.

He carded his fingers through Oikawa’s hair softly. “I’ll go get your breakfast and the water for your morning bath. You don’t have any duties today, so after you’ve eaten and you’re clean, you can just sit here for a while.”

“I don’t wanna see anyone, can you make sure they all stay away from my room?” Oikawa asked, his voice muffled against Iwaizumi’s chest.

“I can try.”

“Okay, thank you,” he murmured.

Iwaizumi gently pushed off Oikawa off him and swung his legs over the bed, all of his bones cracking as he stood and stretched. He laughed at Oikawa’s wince, and let his head loll to the side, popping once each way.

“That’s vile,” Oikawa whined, pulling the covers up over his ears. “You’re like an old man. Grumpy old Iwa-chan with his foul face and decrepit body.”

“Anymore of that and I might just mix up your clean bathwater with dirty suds meant for the horses,” Iwaizumi quipped lightly, pulling on his clothes again. They were scratchy against his skin, nothing like the soft threads of Oikawa’s clothes.

A disgruntled head poked up from the covers. “You wouldn’t dare. I could exile you, you know!”

“Ah, one can only dream,” Iwaizumi said wistfully, laughing as Oikawa threw a pillow at him.

He chuckled all the way down to the kitchens, but then it faded when the atmosphere hit him, and he realised that the rest of the castle did not have someone to find relief in. The air was thick and Hajime ducked his head, suddenly feeling guilty for laughing when the grief was still raw. Suga saw him standing there, and beckoned him over with a sad smile.

“Hajime,” he cooed, “how are you?”

Iwaizumi sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “I mean, I don’t really know. It’s still not set in yet, I guess. It’s hard for me because I owed Queen Oikawa everything, and I always respected her, but I can’t imagine how awful Oikawa feels. They were best friends, he’s distraught without her.”

Suga nodded once his large doe eye blinking slowly. “I can imagine that he’s at ends with himself. It’s not my place to say, but he doesn’t seem to work with the King well.”

“They don’t always get along,” Hajime admitted. “The King is a fine ruler, but he is a serious and blunt man, and he sees Oikawa as whimsical and irresponsible. He loves him, as any Father does his son, but they do not see eye to eye.”

“He must feel lonely,” Sugawara lamented as he piled some extra food onto Oikawa’s plate.

“He has me.”

“Yes, he does,” the delicate boy smiled, cupping Hajime’s face. “And when you need someone to lean on, you know you’ve got me.”

Hajime smiled gratefully and nuzzled into Suga’s hand. Despite working in a kitchen, his hands were only minorly scarred by burns, and were kept soft by the frequent washing. “Daichi, too.”

Koushi snorted. “Daichi’s useless with sad people. Poor fool gets red in the face and usually ends up crying along with you from sheer stress.”

Hajime laughed, and thanked his lucky stars that Sugawara was in his life. He seemed to be the only one who could genuinely make Iwaizumi happy, other than the prince himself. He picked up the tray of food, lovingly floundering with grapes, meats and warm fresh bread, and his mouth watered. Realising he hadn’t eaten himself, he blinked.

“Suga, I know I’m being a pain, but I haven’t eaten yet, could you give me my breakfast, too?”

“Oh- of course! But where will you eat it?” Suga asked, pulling out a small wooden bowl and placing one slice of yesterday’s bread into it, along with three grapes and a small slice of cheese. As he always did with Hajime’s food, he snuck one slice of meat in as well.

“With the Prince,” Hajime said, lifting his one free hand as Koushi’s eyes widened in shock. “Trust me, I…have a feeling he’ll want me with him today. Oikawa’s never been one to enforce status unless it’s absolutely necessary anyway.”

Koushi looked doubtful, but handed Iwaizumi his small bowl, which fit on the edge of Oikawa’s large tray. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Thanks, Suga,” he said happily, turning to walk back out the kitchens. “See you later!”

Iwaizumi walked back up to the room, stopping only to ask a passing chamber maid to gather water for Oikawa’s bath and bring it up when it’s heated. She agreed and scurried away, and Hajime found himself baffled that despite them both being servants, he had a higher status. It made no sense to him really.  
He pushed open the large wooden door to Oikawa’s room. “Okay, I’ve got your breakfast.”

Oikawa was already sitting at the table, still in his nightwear. His hair was rumpled and wild, and his eyes set with dark bags, but he smiled a little when he saw Hajime.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he said quietly. When Hajime removed his own small bowl and sat Oikawa’s food down in front of him, the brunette’s eyes widened. “This is a big breakfast.”

“Suga wanted to make sure you’re keeping your strength up,” Iwaizumi supplied. “May I sit?”

Oikawa waved his hand. “Of course. That’s very sweet of him, but surely he doesn’t think I can eat all of this?”

Iwaizumi pulled his own bowl closer and shrugged. “It’s okay, I’ll just take whatever you don’t eat back to the kitchens.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, eyes zoning in on his food. “What is that?”

Hajime blushed in embarrassment. He had assumed it would be okay, but- “It’s my breakfast, sire. Normally I eat before coming in to wake you, but I didn’t want to keep you waiting long, so I was going to eat with you here, if you permit it.”

“That’s your breakfast?” But-there’s hardly anything there!” the brunette squawked. He looked at his own breakfast and back to Hajime’s. “I knew they weren’t feeding you enough!”

“Oikawa, this is plenty, I’m not greedy like you,” Hajime huffed, eating a grape. “This is more than the rest get, see? Suga gave me some meat, and an extra grape. Only the royals are meant to get meat.”

“Why? We have plenty of it to go around,” he huffed, picking two more slices off his own plate and plopping them into Iwaizumi’s bowl. Ignoring the raven’s protests, he gave Iwaizumi some of his olives as well, and ripped a part of his bread off, warm and soft next to the hardening bread already of Iwaizumi’s plate.

“My Lord, I can’t- you can’t give this to me,” Iwaizumi said, looking at his bowl in bewilderment. “This is your food, you have to eat it!”

Oikawa’s gaze was firm. “The royals eat well, the nobles eat well, hell- even the knights eat well! I see no reason why you should not eat well.”

“I’m not as important as-“

“Do not speak of yourself like that in front of me,” Oikawa commanded, eyes flashing. “You are important to me, and that is enough. Now, stop disobeying me and eat.”

Iwaizumi ducked his head and picked up the warm bread, a small smile on his lips. He put some of the cheese on it and took a bite, humming in satisfaction. “You know, you can actually be nice sometimes.”

“I’m always nice!” he huffed, picking at his own food.

Iwaizumi laughed, and continued eating. He hadn’t felt much hungry when Oikawa was hiding from him, and so his hunger slammed back into him with a vengeance, and he shovelled his food into his mouth.

“Hungry?” Oikawa said, amused.

“Starving.”

“Here.” A plate of food was pushed towards him. “I don’t think I can eat much today anyway, so it shouldn’t go to waste, right?”

When Iwaizumi looked up, Oikawa had his hands clasped and his lips were tight. The sadness in his tone was evident. “I’m sorry, I’ll clear this away now.”

“Eat, Iwa-chan,” Tooru chuckled tiredly, resting his head in his palm. “I want someone to act normal in this castle; it’s more helpful if it’s you.”

Unsure of what to say, Iwaizumi simply nodded and ate, only stopping to check Oikawa over every now and then. When he had eaten his fill, he stood and cleared the plates, setting them aside so he could bow slightly. It was always awkward when he did this- at least he thought so- and he was glad Oikawa’ couldn’t see his face.

“Thank you for allowing me to share your bed, your company and your food. It is more than most would do for a servant.” Iwaizumi stayed bowing for another second before rising, clapping his hands together as if to break the careful atmosphere. “Now, I’m going to run your bath, and you’re going to let me fix that hair, because it looks awful.”

“Eh?” Oikawa asked, trying to run a hand through his hair and wincing when it got caught on a tug. “You know, even if it’s messy I still look better than you, Iwa-chan.”  
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I’ll remember that when I’m ever so gently brushing the tugs out of your bird’s nest.”

The prince visibly paled at the thought of Iwaizumi whacking his head with the brush and yelling at him to stay still. “You can’t! You’re so brutish, what if you pull my hair out? I can’t be bald! I’ll become ugly!”

“What do you mean ‘become’?” Iwaizumi snickered, then quickly dodged the plate Oikawa threw at him. “All right, all right, come on, time for your bath. The servants just dropped the water off, I heard them outside.”

Oikawa stood, and Iwaizumi watched as the smile fell off his face slowly, and his brows furrowed. Suddenly, with no teasing between them, Iwaizumi felt as if he was really seeing Oikawa; a boy, with bags under his eyes, a stomach full of vines and a headache pounding behind his eyes.

A boy without a mother.

Iwaizumi brought the water in and filled up the tub, his words gentle. “Come over here, I’ll undress you.”

“I’m not a child,” Oikawa said, walking over anyway.

“I know, but I’d still like to do it,” he said, pouring some of Oikawa’s favourite bath lotion in, stirring it with his hand so it would bubble the way he liked it. He stood, wiping his hand on his shirt. “So, arms up.”

Oikawa did as he was told, and Iwaizumi slid his hands around Oikawa’s hips, fingers barely brushing against the pale skin as he picked up the fabric, sliding it up and over Tooru’s head. He gently threaded his fingers into the mahogany hair, lightly kissing Oikawa’s forehead. Saying nothing, he sat the garment over the back of the chair, and pulled at the ties of Tooru’s slacks, dropping to his knees to ease the prince’s feet out, one by one. He wrapped his fingers around the boy’s calf, pulling it towards his lips for a chaste kiss.

Then, Iwaizumi stood and took Oikawa’s hand, tugging him towards the bath. The taller boy slipped in wordlessly, tall enough that his knees poked out the top. His hands lay at his side uselessly, and he tilted his head back, eyes wearily closing.

It hurt Iwaizumi to see him like that, and he wished that he could just take the sadness from Tooru, save him from his own mind. He sighed as he washed Tooru with a bar of soap, letting his hands lather it into his spotless skin; what words could he say to make this better?

He worked silently, washing down Oikawa’s body with a tenderness akin to that of a mother, and lifted Oikawa’s feet out of the water. He washed them with the rag, with enough pressure not to tickle the prince, and once they were clean he bent his head and placed a kiss on top of each one.  
“Oikawa, I don’t know how to make this all okay, and maybe I can’t,” he started, “but I’m going to try. You’re strong, a leader, a captain, and you’ve always been the one to lead me- hell, I’ve been following you since I was a child. But…even if it’s just for today, or if it’s for a full year, I’ll be strong for you. It’s my turn to lead you through this, because I know you can do it. I’m not just saying that because I pity you, or because I think you need to hear it- I’m saying it because, from the bottom of my heart, I mean it. I know in my bones the man you are, and the King you will become. Right now, I know you feel hopeless, and I know you’re scared, but you have to trust me when I tell you that you’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. So just…hang in there, and we’ll ride it out, okay?”

“Iwa…” Oikawa said quietly, eyes wide in shock at the sudden disturbance to the quiet.

“Lean on me, and I’ll help you,” he said earnestly, letting Oikawa’s feet land back in the water. “Let me help you.”

Oikawa surged forward and wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, giving a very small, wet chuckle. “Silly Iwa-chan, you’re not supposed to make me cry.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, setting his hand on Oikawa’s back.

The brunette just laughed again as he pulled back, his wide eyes shining as he blinked. He sniffed a little, but gave a small smile. “Thank you, really. I must really be a mess if I’m moving stoic Iwa-chan to inspiring meaningful speeches, huh?”

“Shut up, crappykawa,” Iwaizumi said fondly.

“I think…I will take it one thing at a time,” Oikawa said finally, “I’ve been killing myself thinking- can I make it through my life without her? But that’s not helping. I need to look at the smaller things, you know? Can I make it through this meal? Can I make it through the week? Can I make it through my birthday? If I break it down…it seems less scary that I’ll be doing those things without her.”

“And can you? Can you make it through a meal? A week? A birthday?”

Oikawa took a deep breath of air, and let it go. “I think, that if I can just make it through today, then those other things won’t seem so scary.”

Iwaizumi nodded. “Alright.”

“Besides,” Oikawa said, pushing back some of Iwaizumi’s thick hair. “Iwa-chan is not so unlike my mother. You are a nice reminder of the woman she was.”

“Oikawa, what are you saying?” he spluttered- Iwaizumi was not deserving of such praise.

“I’m saying…you are a lot like her. Not like I am; my mother and I, we are free people. She taught me to love what’s around me, to look for the best in people, to dream for something bigger and to find beauty in everything. For that, I will always be grateful,” he said with a pure smile. “But you, you have her kindness. My mother had a kindness that ran so deeply through her veins that she would not even hurt a fly that had found its way into the palace. She was selfless, and put many people before herself, and yet she was so strong, so fierce when it came to protecting her family- those are qualities I wish I could say I share, but I do not- not to the same extent as you.”

He brushed their lips together. 

“You are a very very kind person, and there is nobody I trust more than you. You are my partner in everything, Hajime. I could not have found a better person to have by my side for the rest of my life.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t find any words that would convey the rush of emotion in his chest, so he just kissed Oikawa instead, trying desperately to show him everything he felt with his trembling lips and the shaking hand on his back. He promised Oikawa he would be strong, so he didn’t let any tears out, but he could feel himself crumbling. Drawing back with a steadying breath, Iwaizumi picked up the jug.  
“There is nobody I would rather serve,” he said honestly. “Come, let me wash your hair.”

Oikawa did as requested, and Iwaizumi lathered the soap with soft circular movements, using his fingers to de-tangle what he could of Oikawa’s hair. When he was done, he tapped the prince on the shoulder, and he rose, arms outstretched as he waited to be wrapped in his towel. Iwaizumi dried him with frequent pats, afraid that even the rough drag of the towel against his skin would be enough to break Oikawa. The brunette was quiet, but Iwaizumi knew from his admission and from the tremble in his lip how emotional the prince was really feeling.

Once, Hajime had heard the King complain about Oikawa’s feelings- he compared them to that of a whining princess, and not that of a man. Hajime was young, having just started at the palace, but he remembered how the Queen’s face had soured.

Later, as he was dropping something off to his mother, he saw her, and bit his lip, before asking: “My Lady, is it bad that Prince Tooru cries a lot?”

She looked startled, but then she smiled, and beckoned him closer. “No, I do not think so. You see, my husband thinks that a man should show no emotion, for it weakens him, but I do not agree- I think that emotion is the strongest thing about a person, for it makes us all completely and utterly human. Tooru is not weak for crying, he is just…human. He feels very deeply, and he loves so wholeheartedly, he feels nothing by halves. So when he is upset, he is very truly saddened, and I know that I am lucky enough to have a son who allows his emotions to exist and become part of him. If he suppressed them, then why- he wouldn’t be a person. Even if he learns to hide it as he grows, I hope he never stops feeling with such abandon.”

Hajime mulled her words over in his head as he slid Tooru’s arms into the sleeves of his finest summer Yukata. He folded the fabric around his body, smoothing out pleats and collars before carefully tying his obi. He slid Oikawa’s feet into his tabi, and then his geta. When he stood back and cast an eye over him, he couldn’t help but suck in a little breath: even with his hair dripping and sticking to the pale alabaster of his face, Oikawa looked beautiful. His porcelain skin stood out against the darkness of his yukata, and the soft thin material framed his body to show his lithe thin figure, but floated and pooled just enough to hint at his delicacy, too.

“There, ready,” Iwaizumi whispered quietly, mostly to himself.

Oikawa ducked his head, but Iwaizumi simply pulled him over to his desk, littered with powders and inks and various other makeup items. There was a hairbrush there, Oikawa’s favourite, and Iwaizumi picked it up with nimble fingers. He combed through Oikawa’s hair with gentle slow strokes, not forcing the tugs out but coercing them to part.

Oikawa watched them in the mirror. “I was half expecting your usual wrath, normally you’ve whacked me three times by now.”

“Don’t push it, I’m still holding the brush,” he huffed.

Oikawa simply smiled. With his hair done, he let it air dry, and Iwaizumi stood by him, head tilting as he watched the hair begin to curl.  
“You know, the Queen had very straight hair, as does the King, so how do you have curls?”

Oikawa laughed, a small light back in his eyes. “I’m unique, Iwa-chan!”

“That’s true, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Japanese person with curly hair like yours,” he said, picking up a lock in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers. “It certainly frizzes like nobody else’s in the summer.”

Oikawa tutted, picking up his face powder. He dusted it over his face a few times, Iwaizumi trying not to choke on the cloud of powder that surrounded him afterwards. Oikawa sat it back down, and inspected himself in the mirror. His skin, already naturally pale, seemed almost ethereal now, like a spirit of the moon.

“Any whiter and you’ll be joining the Geisha’s,” Iwaizumi said with a roll of his eyes.

Oikawa had always been one to fiddle with makeup- despite the fact that it was predominantly worn by the women of the castle, he had always been fascinated by it, and loved to line his eyes with the black ink and red paint he’d swiped from the Geisha’s room. He never wore a full face out, not with his father around, but the old man himself was partial to staining his nails to assert his status, and as such did not mind when Oikawa powdered his face.

“I wouldn’t mind that, they’re very beautiful,” he said idly, drawing a flick from the corner of his eye all the way past the end. “I’m nowhere near talented enough, though.”

“That’s true,” the raven snickered.

Oikawa huffed but lined his other eye, quickly dipping his brush into the red ink as he swiped along his undereye. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Iwaizumi said honestly. “You look beautiful. Are you sure you’ll be okay to colour your eyes?”

“Thank you,” Oikawa said, reaching to fix his hair, which would be almost dry soon. The heat of the summer night helped, and Oikawa was thankful it was not a heady night, or his hair would have frizzed. “I wish I could paint my whole face, even if just to spite him.”

“Your father?”

“Who else?” Oikawa muttered. “My mother, she never stopped me from doing as I pleased. She let me play with her makeup, she put her combs and her jewels in my hair, she let me try on her most luxurious kimono. She never once stopped me from trying something new. I’m painting my eyes for her.”

“It’s like you said- she wanted you to experience the beauty in that around you,” Iwaizumi said, resting a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. “She always admired your innocence, I think.”

“My father thinks I should not care for such things. He is so different to her…I worry I won’t ever be who I really am around him.” Oikawa rested his head on his hand and sighed, suddenly looking tired. “I am to rule this Kingdom, and one day, I will. But I can tell how terrified he is that I will not run it his way, that I will not be his type of King. How am I to ever be true to the Kingdom when I cannot even be true to myself under his eye?”

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, dropping to his knees, “your time will come, and this kingdom will look to you for support, and guidance, and compassion. You will lead them in their time of need. You will show them who you are, and I promise you, they will love you, and they will respect you. Things change, and we change with them. Do not let an old man’s rumblings stop you from being who you are.”

Iwaizumi lifted his hand, and placed a kiss on it.

“Your mother once told me when I was younger that she wished you never stopped being who you are. She adored how deeply you felt, how truly you felt your emotions. She was proud that you cry, proud that you smile and laugh and get angry and upset and frustrated- because it proved to her that she raised a son who was completely honest with himself,” Hajime punctuated with a nod, “so even if that time is not now, there will come a time when you can have all the beautiful things you want, a time when you can cry as much as your heart desires, and nobody will be there to berate you for it. You are who you are, and the people who love you most would not dare change you.”

Oikawa took in a stuttering breath and stood, looking out the window at the darkening sky. He placed a hand on Hajime’s shoulder, extending it to wrap around the tan boy’s wrist as he stood. “You’re right. It’s almost time.”

“Are you ready?”

“No,” he said honestly, “but I was never going to be ready, was I?”


	12. chapter 12

“My wife, Queen Oikawa Eri of Seijoh, was the finest Queen this Kingdom could have had,” the King stated clearly, his voice ringing out to the mass gathering of crowds. They fell silent when he spoke. “And it pains me greatly to see her passing so early. However, she has given this Kingdom an heir, and as such has done her duty to the state, and made us stronger. She will be remembered forever. Long live the Queen!”

“Long live the Queen!” Hajime, and thousands of others’ chanted out, even when the words stuck in his throat. “Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”

Oikawa stood, and raised a single hand. The crowd quietened, and he cleared his throat. “I wish to speak to you all about the type of person my mother was. Father?”

The King narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

“My mother was the best Queen this nation could have possibly asked for. She was strong, and smart, and fair- she never judged anyone upon sight, and she always helped those in need. She was my best friend, and I couldn’t have been luckier to have her as my mother, and you could not be luckier to have her as your Queen.” He sucked in a breath. “Even though she is gone, her legacy will not die. I ask you all- beg you even- to carry her in your heart and your mind, and to live as she did: be kind, be just, and be true. Pray for her spirit, and know that even death will not stop her from watching over her Kingdom. Long live the Queen!”

“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” the crowd yelled back with enthusiasm, many of them with tears flowing freely down their cheeks, their knees against the ground and their noses skimming the dirt as they bowed, faithful and united.

Oikawa looked back at his father, and let out a sign of relief when the other man nodded in respect. Oikawa shakily made his way back to his father, Iwaizumi behind him by a few feet. Hajime wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab his hand, remind him that he was doing amazingly, but he was forced to stand and watch, hoping Oikawa knew what he was thinking.

“Now,” the King bellowed, commanding their attention, “join us in laying my wife to rest, and setting her spirit free.”

The late Queen lay on a raft bounded and carved from the finest of woods, resting against the edges of the lake. She was ethereally pale, her pallor so white she looked as if she were bleeding colour, and perfectly still, her long thick hair moving in the slight breeze. The purple from the sky seemed to reflect off her, following the curve of his nose and the plush of her lips, and for a second, Iwaizumi thought she looked more beautiful than she ever had.

She was dressed in her finest silk kimono, and lay on a bed of flowers and incense, the sweet scent mingling in the air. Iwaizumi almost couldn’t take his eyes off her, but when he heard a sniff next to him and saw Oikawa’s lip trembling, he looked at the brunette instead.

Very quietly, almost enough for the words to be carried off by the breeze, he said, “You’re going to be okay.”

Oikawa nodded a few times, and gulped audibly, squeezing his eyes shut. 

The King stood by the woman, lifting a pendant from his neck, and laying it on her bosom. “Goodbye, my love.”

Oikawa fiddled with his hands as he tried desperately not to cry. “She made that for him when they got married, you know.”

“She did?”

“A-nd he’s giving it back,” he shakily laughed, “that hardly seems fair, does it?”

“Oikawa-"

“My turn,” he said, ignoring Iwaizumi.

Oikawa walked up to his mother’s body, and leaned down to place a kiss on her cold, unmoving lips. He whispered something in her ear, and then stood straight, gently caressing her face. “Goodbye, mother. I hope wherever you go next, you are happy. Thank you.”

After a few more people had paid their respects, Hajime was surprised to see his own mother stand beside him. She turned to the King, eyes rimmed red. “My Lord, may my son and I please pay our respects?”

The King studied her, and for a second Iwaizumi was certain they’d be turned down. But then, he nodded. “You may.”

His mother bowed, and Hajime followed suit, and then they walked forward. Hitoka started crying unbearably upon seeing her best friend lying motionless on the wood, and with trembling fingers, she placed a small, thin comb in the Queen’s hands. “You were my best friend, and I was lucky to have served you. I am sorry that I couldn’t help you more.”

“The comb?” Iwaizumi asked, rubbing his mother’s back.

“She gave it to me on my first day,” she said sadly, “said every woman needed a nice comb for their hair…oh, Hajime, what will we do?”

As his mother cried, he kissed her forehead. “We will keep living, mother.”

Then, he pulled apart to look over the Queen. From his pocket he pulled out a single flower, one that he’d taken from the gardens. He pushed it gently into her hair, and closed his eyes. “I won’t break my promise. He will always be safe with me.”

Then, he took his mother’s arm and pulled her away, keeping his head high as he forced his tears back. He wouldn’t cry. He would show Oikawa he could be strong.  
The King stood, and nodded to the two guards stationed next to the raft. “Set her free.”

Fire. 

Fire licked its way across the wood, crawling from the guard’s torches all the way up the raft, until the queen was walled in by the flames. The raft was pushed, and on the still water of the lake, she floated, so peacefully it seemed to counteract the harshness of the fire. Ripples spanned across the water as the raft was carried by the breeze, further and further until she was somewhere in the middle of the lake, and all that could be seen was the flames, devouring the remnants of the Queen.

As he watched, Hajime could not help but think it was strangely beautiful.

He wouldn’t mind a funeral like this, but they were reserved for royalty only; a servant like himself would be buried in the ground, and have a very small shrine, perhaps, if he had someone there to mourn him.

He found himself shuffling as the crowd began to move, everyone making their respective ways home, Oikawa lagging behind the King, looking back over his shoulder mournfully. Hajime ached to hold him, but kept his arms firmly by his side until they made their way back into the castle halls, up through the corridors and into Oikawa’s chambers. He busied himself with tidying the bed, wiping down the table, fixing the mats on the floor and fumbling with pillows as he waited for Oikawa to join him.

“Hajime.”

He dropped the clip that was in his hand, and whipped around, his eyes meeting Oikawa’s.

“Tooru.”

Oikawa stepped in, looking more exhausted than he had in weeks. He rubbed his sleeve against his face, smudging a line of red under one of his eyes, and let out a stuttering breath. He stepped forward, and then Hajime was in his arms.

Iwaizumi locked his arms around Oikawa, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear and kissing along his cheek, his neck, his forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“It hurts, it really hurts,” he laughed in disbelief, sobs threatening to choke him.

“I know, but you were amazing,” he says, wiping his thumbs under Oikawa’s eyes to catch the tears that were leaking over. “You couldn’t have been better, she would be so proud of you.”

Oikawa opened his mouth to speak when there was a knock on his door. Quickly, they broke apart, and Oikawa wiped furiously at his face. “Come in.”

Surprisingly, the King himself walked in, looking solemn. He cleared his throat, and Iwaizumi busied himself with tidying. “Tooru.”

“Father.”

“I was going to congratulate you for not crying, but I see that your actions now would nullify that,” the King said tiredly.

“Father, my mother just died,” Oikawa spat, “forgive me for not being as heartless as you.”

His eyes flashed. “Tooru, you will watch your tongue! I will let that slip because you are obviously upset, but I am still your King, and you will treat me with respect.”

Oikawa bit his tongue and looked down, fists shaking in what Iwaizumi assumed was grief.

“Here, I came to ask if you want this,” he said, pulling a beautiful jewelled hairbrush from his sleeve, more luxurious than Oikawa’s own. “I am throwing out your mother’s belongings, so if not this, I suggest you pick something-“

“You’re throwing her things away?” Tooru asked in disbelief. “Father, you can’t! She-she’s only been dead a few days!”

“All the better to clear it out,” he snapped. “I will not let objects be the sole benefactor behind her memory, Tooru- there is no point. I will remember her in my mind, and all the palace will remember her through her portrait. There is no need for such trivialities. I asked you out of kindness- “

“You wouldn’t know kindness if it hit you in the face!” he yelled, voice cracking as tears poured over. “You are heartless, you must be, you didn’t deserve her- “

“ENOUGH,” the King roared, a dangerous look in his eyes. “I tried to do something nice for you, and you are so blinded by your own emotions that you cannot see that. You are nothing but a spoiled child, you are barely strong enough to deal with your grief; I shall give you nothing of hers.”

“No, Father, wait! I want the hairbrush, please,” he begged, tone changing to pleading in a second.

In response, Oikawa’s father broke the brush in his hands, throwing the two halves against Oikawa’s floor, ignoring his gasp. “Let this be a lesson to you, boy- your emotions only ever get you into trouble. It is about time you learned how to be a man.”

With that, he stalked away, and Oikawa stared at the floor in shock. He picked up the broken hairbrush, and then, after a minute of tense silence where Iwaizumi was unsure what he should say, he hurled them across the room, breathing heavily as they hit the wall with a crack, and bounced onto the floor.  
Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, and he gnawed on his lip. He hesitated in speaking. “Oikawa…”

“No, Hajime, I’m not okay.”

He really didn’t know what to do. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and felt awfully like a fish out of water, flopping and floundering; he yearned to hold Oikawa, but also knew that if he got too close, Oikawa could lash out.

Oikawa sensed his turmoil. “You can just go, already.”

That stung. “Do you want me to?”

Oikawa seemed to think for a long time. “Yes. I don’t think I want to be around anyone right now.”

Iwaizumi hesitated, but knew well enough that if Oikawa wanted some privacy, he was due it. He sighed and nodded, despite knowing Oikawa couldn’t see, and quickly bent down and scooped up the broken hairbrush, putting it in the pocket of his slacks. Then, he walked by Oikawa, his hand outstretched above the brunette’s head as if to ruffle it, but he retracted it, letting it hang limply by his side.  
“Goodnight, sire.”

He got no answer.


	13. chapter 13

Time, strange as ever, passed, regardless of their situation. When Hajime felt as though the palace would be stuck in its grief forever, the dark cloud of death looming over them like an imminent warning of things to come, it surprised him by picking up the pace and resuming normal duties, almost as if nothing had happened at all.

The staff were back up and working: breakfast still had to be made, sheets had to be washed, horses had to be ridden and the garden tended, and as he watched everyone bustling about, it was so similar that if it weren’t for the occasional whispers and downcast expressions, the Queen’s passing looked to have left the minds of those around him.

It hadn’t left his mind, but Hajime wasn’t sure he could ever move on easily from death. It was the one thing that truly frightened him, the thought that at any second, Oikawa could be taken from him, the life pulled form him like a petal plucked from a flower. Shaking the thought out his head, Hajime told himself to focus on happier things- after all, today was his birthday.

He walked into the kitchens at dawn, surprised by how empty it was, and was immediately swept up in a hug.

“Happy birthday, Hajime!” Suga cheered happily, ever the picture of delight. He smiled widely, and his eyes seemed to sparkle, and once again Hajime realised how beautiful Sugawara was. Still, he knew how teasing and mischievous the blonde really was, and thanked his lucky stars he wasn’t Daichi. 

He laughed, placing a hand on the bottom of Suga’s back and pulling him close for a hug. “Thanks, Koushi. I’m glad you remembered.”

“I never forget!” Suga admonished him. “And I never would, too. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think Daichi would let me- he’s been so excited to give you his gift.”

Daichi had already been out at the horses by the time Hajime woke up, so he assumed that he would meet him at some point later today. “He didn’t have to get me anything. I know he sends most of his money back home to his family.”

“He always gets you something, don’t be silly,” Koushi said, patting Iwaizumi on the cheek. “I’ve gotten you a little something, too.”

“Suga, you shouldn’t have-“

“Hush, I wanted to,” the blonde tutted, turning to walk through the kitchens, and coming back with a bowl filled with berries. It had fresh strawberries and raspberries, and plump blackberries, too. A scattering of blueberries filled the gaps, and Hajime audibly moaned.

“Oh, my God, how did you get this?” he gasped, carefully taking the bowl from Suga’s hand. “I’ve never seen this many berries in one sitting! You didn’t steal them from the royal’s deserts, did you?”

Koushi rolled his eyes. “No, you dope, I told the head cook- you know her, the big woman with the silver hair- that it was your birthday, and I wanted to do something for you. She’s awfully fond of you, so she helped me set aside some berries and well…happy birthday!”

Hajime felt his cheeks darken. He knew the woman well, she was fond of pinching his cheeks when he walked by her. “I really can’t thank you enough, this looks amazing.” Hajime popped a raspberry into his mouth and grinned. “It tastes amazing, too.”

Laughing, Koushi started piling the bowls of food for Oikawa’s breakfast onto his tray. “Well, I’ve got another surprise for you at lunchtime, too, so you can thank me for that later.”

“Daichi is a lucky man,” Iwaizumi murmured with a grateful smile, munching on a strawberry.

Suga sighed. “He really is. I make sure he knows it, too.”

Smiling as he ate another strawberry, Hajime hummed. “How are you guys anyway?”

“We’re good,” he said contentedly, wiping down his counter, “you know how he can get sometimes. He’s always terrified that someone is going to catch us, but he can’t live like that! He needs to take a risk, especially on the important stuff.”

“He’s a cautious guy,” Iwaizumi agreed, “he doesn’t want to do anything to risk either of you getting sent away or executed.”

Koushi pouted. “I know, but it makes so sad when he won’t touch me like I know he wants to. Daichi’s a passionate guy, and when we’re together it’s amazing, but he almost never wants to, nowadays.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened. “Daichi, passionate? Nah…he’s always so calm, I just figured he wouldn’t be, well-“

“Horny?” Suga’s eyes flashed and he grinned.

Hajime could feel how red his face was. “Suga!”

“Trust me, Hajime, Daichi is anything but innocent,” he cackled, “last time we lay together he marked my body head to toe- I had to wear a neckscarf for a week!”

“That was why you wore that?!”

“Yep!” Suga laughed loudly, delighting in Hajime’s shock. “He’s a real man, Hajime- those thighs, God I could stay between them forever-“

“Suga!” Hajime slapped a hand over Suga’s mouth and whined, “I won’t ever be able to look him in the eye again, please stop. You’re ruining my appetite.”

Suga laid his hand over Hajime’s and pulled it down to rest against his chest, still rumbling with laughter. He threaded their fingers. “Come now, surely it’s not that shocking. You must have someone of your own as well, no?”

Hajime blushed. He did, but it wasn’t like he could tell Suga. “Nope. It’s just me.”

“That’s okay, too,” he said happily, “You’ll find them eventually, I know it.”

“Thanks.”

Suga reached into Hajime’s bowl with his other hand and picked up a strawberry, popping it into Hajime’s mouth. “No worries. You know, Hajime, I bet you’ll find someone really soon. You’ve got lovely arms, very beefy.”

Iwaizumi shook his head with an amused smile, swallowing down his strawberry. “Thanks, I’m glad that my arms are my best feature. Who needs a personality when you’ve got a body.”

Suga broke away, smiling as he picked up a raspberry. “What can I say, I like a man who can pick me up without breaking a sweat. Hey, wanna play a game?”

“Not really, why?”

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport!” Suga huffed, raising his hand. “I’ll throw it and you catch it in your mouth.”

“Suga, no-“

“Catch!” Suga threw it.

It hit Iwaizumi’s eye, and he cursed. “Damnit, throw it again, I wasn’t ready!”

Suga chuckled and chucked another raspberry, and this time Iwaizumi opened his mouth and surged forward, catching it.

“Woo!” Koushi clapped, “again!”

And as Iwaizumi caught another berry in his mouth, he couldn’t help but laugh as Suga wrapped an arm around his neck, cooing in his ear.

“See, Hajime? You’ve got loads of skills!”

Hajime was about to roll his eyes when a different voice interrupted them.

“Iwa-chan, what are you doing?”

Iwaizumi whipped his head around and coughed, pulling out of Suga’s embrace as he straightened himself. He hadn’t realised that with all the time he’d spent in the kitchen, Oikawa had woken up himself, with no manservant. “Prince Oikawa, I’m so sorry, I got caught up here and I wasn’t aware how much time had passed.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed at Suga. “I can see that. Where’s my breakfast? I’m starving.”

“Right here, sire,” Suga said, hurriedly gathering the tray. “Please, don’t be angry at Hajime- I kept him a little longer than usual, it was an accident.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sugawara Koushi,” the blonde answered, timidly.

Oikawa’s eyes widened. “You’re Suga? The one who slips Iwa-chan extra food?”

Suga blushed, and Iwaizumi cursed under his breath. “Y-yes, sir.”

Oikawa pursed his lips. “Can’t you sneak him anymore? He’s still skinny as a child. Clearly you’re not doing enough.”

“Sire,” Iwaizumi objected in an affronted tone, “I am not that skinny! I don’t need more food, Suga does fine by me.”

Seemingly surprised, Suga blanched. “Um, well, I give him as much as I can without getting in trouble with the head cooks, my Lord. B-but I could try to sneak him some more?”

Iwaizumi butted in. “That really won’t be necessary. Sire, surely you’d like to go upstairs and eat?”

Oikawa huffed, but nodded. “Okay. Don’t be that late again though, if you have time to mess about you have time to tidy my chambers and polish my armour.”

Iwaizumi grit his teeth. “Of course.”

With that, Oikawa huffed and stormed away, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Honestly, what a prat.”

Suga still looked frightened, so Iwaizumi calmed his tone.

“Hey, you’re alright- he won’t do anything to you, he’s just a bit dramatic, is all,” he tried, “I’ll talk to him. I promise he’s nicer when he’s had some food.”

Suga chuckled at that and waved the other boy off. “It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s the first time I’ve ever been face to face with him, it’s a little intimidating! You’d better go.”

“IWA-CHAN!” came a disembodied yell from down the hall.

Iwaizumi was sure he could see the back of his skull. “Coming, sire!”

Then, shoving the last of his berries into his mouth, Iwaizumi hurried off. When he reached Oikawa’s chamber, Oikawa was sitting with his arms crossed at his table, pouting. Iwaizumi sat his food down and frowned.

“Are you really mad at me for being late?”

“You were having fun in the kitchen,” he mumbled.

“Well, yeah…but I won’t do that again if it annoys you-“

“You were laughing!” Oikawa stressed. “With him.”

“Suga?”

“ _Suga? _” Oikawa parroted in a mocking voice. “Thanks for telling me about him, by the way! So nice of you to mention that he’s gorgeous.”__

__“Oikawa, stop messing about, what are you even talking about?” Hajime sighed tiredly. “He’s my friend, and he’s a good one.”_ _

__“Your friend,” Oikawa asked, a nasty smile curling at his lips, “Because clearly you have so many. Tell me, do they all hang off you like that?”_ _

__“What the hell is wrong with you?”_ _

__“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just the fact that my beloved was laughing and spending time with a gorgeous boy who just happens to be his ‘friend’ and nothing more? Don’t insult me.”_ _

__“I’m allowed to have a good time, Oikawa,” Hajime snarled, “Just because you’re an ass to me doesn’t mean everyone is. Suga is actually sweet and a good friend to me, which you’d know if you ever bothered to ask about me sometime. I’m not going to apologise for having friends.”_ _

__“Shame you can only make friends with whores.”_ _

__Hajime felt his mouth open in shock. “You have no right to talk about him like that! You don’t even know him, you can’t-“_ _

__“And you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” Oikawa slammed his palms against the table. “You are a servant, remember your place when you speak with me!”_ _

__Iwaizumi grit his teeth and forcibly dropped the tray on the table, eyes narrowing as the contents spilled over. “You know what? Fuck you, Oikawa. Sorry, sire. Don't choke on your food, asshole.”_ _

__Then, before Oikawa could say anything, Iwaizumi turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him. He stalked through the halls, anger shaking his fists and colouring his cheeks red, and he grit his teeth. He wasn’t sure where he should go, but he wanted away from Oikawa for a bit._ _

__What even was that anyway?_ _

__Oikawa was a jealous person- he was often possessive over his things, and Hajime knew that, but he’d never been so outright possessive of Iwaizumi himself. It angered him, knowing the way he had spoken so brazenly about Suga, when the boy had done nothing wrong to either of them before. In the weeks after his mother’s death, Oikawa was still volatile and fragile in his emotions, but Iwaizumi was sure he had been getting better. He hadn’t held Iwaizumi in a while, but he had been regaining some of his usual banter, and still went through his daily tasks, practicing and fighting with a newfound vigour._ _

__Still, Hajime couldn’t excuse the nastiness he spouted. It stung him deep inside, having his status shoved in his face by the one person who had always insisted it didn’t matter._ _

__Hajime found himself at the stables, and saw Daichi readying one of the horses. “Hey.”_ _

__The other boy turned around, face splitting into a smile. “Hey! Happy birthday!”_ _

__“Thanks,” Iwaizumi said, walking over to him. “What’re you doing?”_ _

__“Just getting ready for a ride,” he answered, fixing the saddle, “sorry I haven’t been able to give you your present yet, I’ve been busy all day.”_ _

__“Suga mentioned it, it’s fine,” Iwaizumi said as he waved his hand, “mind if I joined you?”_ _

__“You don’t have any duties to do?”_ _

__He did. “Nope.”_ _

__“Feel free, then.”_ _

__Iwaizumi grinned and readied one of the other horses, quickly fixing the saddle and hoisting himself on. He petted the horse’s head soothingly, keeping him in place as he waited for Daichi to mount his own horse._ _

__When the other boy had gotten on, Hajime smiled. “Wanna race?”_ _

__Daichi bit his lip. “There’s not enough room here.”_ _

__“There is in the city. Just race me down to the forest and back! It’ll be good exercise for the horses, and I need to blow off some steam.”_ _

__“Alright, but only because it’s your birthday! And if we get caught you’re taking the blame.”_ _

__“Done.”_ _

__“All right,” Daichi muttered, lining their horses up. “On your marks, get set, go!”_ _

__Iwaizumi whipped the reins and dug his heel into the horse’s side, and he was off. He leaned forward and urged his horse faster, a competitive smile growing as he spotted Daichi drawing ahead. The wind nipped at his cheeks and pushed his hair back, and the sound of hooves on uneven ground was the only sound he could focus on. He could feel himself lurching with every stride of the horse and laughed- he really did miss riding them._ _

__They made their way through the town, twisting to avoid stalls and calling out apologies to those jumping out their way, Hajime’s laugh being carried away by the wind. He was never one to hold onto his temper, especially with Oikawa, and the well of freedom blossoming in his chest from the riding was enough to clear his head. He hoped that Oikawa would overlook him stepping so far out of line, but he found he wanted an apology more._ _

__Grunting, Iwaizumi pushed forward, able to see the line of the forest in view. He grit his teeth and made it into the forest a second before Daichi and let out a victorious yell._ _

__“I win!”_ _

__“Just barely!” the other scoffed, panting hard but grinning._ _

__They pulled their horses to a stop and turned around, beginning to trot back the way they came. They didn’t race this time, choosing instead to meander back at a leisurely pace, chatting all the way._ _

__“So, Suga was telling me what you’re really like.”_ _

__Daichi looked scared. “What did he say?”_ _

__“Oh, nothing too bad…just that you manhandle him and he likes it.”_ _

__“Oh god,” Daichi groaned, his cheeks burning. “I’m so sorry, honestly he’s so bad at keeping his mouth shut. He may look like a pure maiden but I tell you, Iwaizumi, he’s the devil himself.”_ _

__“He’s not that bad,” Hajime laughed._ _

__Daichi shot him a dark look. “You have no idea.”_ _

__“So,” Iwaizumi started with obvious hesitation, “do you and Suga ever have fights?”_ _

__“Of course we do, every couple does,” Daichi answered easily, worn fingers clasped around the reins. “It’s inevitable really, especially when we’re opposites.”_ _

__“What do you fight about?”_ _

__“Well, Suga is a dreamer,” Daichi explained with a twist of his mouth, “and he always risks up getting caught all for something as simple as a kiss, or holding my hand. He has this fantasy in his head that we can just run away and live our lives together free from everyone else, and even though we both know that can never happen it’s like he refuses to listen.”_ _

__“Earlier today he was telling me how he wishes you’d risk more,” Iwaizumi admitted, then his eyes widened. “Please don’t tell him I told you.”_ _

__Daichi laughed good-naturedly. “Don’t worry, I won’t. He gets angry at me because I’m sensible and reliable, and to him that translates that I don’t love him enough to take those risks, which is completely stupid- I love him, and I’m doing my best to keep him safe. I get angry at him because sometimes it feels like he’s not looking at the bigger picture, too focused on following his heart than his head for once. It leads to some pretty nasty fights.”_ _

__“How long does it take you to make up?”_ _

__“The longest we’ve ever stayed mad at each other is a day,” admitted Daichi with a bashful smile, “it’s hard being angry with one another, but we always make a point to make up, you know? Being in a relationship means that you have to put away your pride and apologise, even if you don’t think you did anything wrong. We get on each other’s nerves, but I just remind myself that I love him, and I love the fact that he’s a dreamer and that he wants this- wants me- so badly. Truthfully, I hate being on bad terms with him- the minute we fall out I just want him back in my arms again.”_ _

__“Wow,” Iwaizumi murmured, falling silent to ponder for a minute. He and Oikawa had never had any major fights, and so he could feel the unease stir in his gut like a restless snake, slithering through his body and coiling around his stomach. Hearing Daichi’s soothing voice helped to calm him, though. “Is it easy to make up? Because you love each other?”_ _

__“Easy?” Daichi snorted. “Iwaizumi, nothing’s easy when you love each other. Especially not arguments. It’s always hard to suck up and apologise and to put it behind you, but you do it anyway, because I’d rather have the same fight a hundred times than lose Suga.”_ _

__“If it helps, he really loves you,” Iwaizumi offered, eyes playful, “just this morning he told me how much he loves your thighs. I believe his exact words were ‘I could stay between them all day’-“_ _

__“Stop!” Daichi exclaimed as his cheeks burned, gentle eyes widening in embarrassment. He stared straight on and shook his head with a sigh. “He’s going to be the death of me.”_ _

__They chuckled, and then fell silent, simply enjoying the ride. Iwaizumi liked Daichi; he was easy to get along with, straightforward, kind and honest- plus, he didn’t pry into Iwaizumi’s life, never once asking where he was on the nights he woke up and noticed Hajime wasn’t there. He was a good friend._ _

__“Hey,” Daichi started, “how are you? You looked a little mad earlier.”_ _

__“Ah, I’m alright, I was just pissed at Oikawa,” Iwaizumi huffed, “He can be a royal asshole sometimes.”_ _

__Daichi snorted. “Yeah, I know. He never really means ill of anyone though. I’m sure he’ll be back to normal soon.”_ _

__“Probably,” he agreed, “I think it’s just because of his mother, to be honest. He’s still unsure of what to do with himself, and you know how the King is with him; it’ll probably be a while before he feels back to normal again.”_ _

__His companion nodded solemnly._ _

__Then, they pulled back into the palace ranch, and Daichi hummed._ _

__“Speak of the devil and the devil will appear.”_ _

__Iwaizumi looked up and saw Oikawa, standing in his training gear, arms folded and his lips in a tight line. Unease curled in Iwaizumi’s gut, but he steeled himself with a deep breath- he’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it._ _

__“Sire,” Daichi greeted, dismounting and bending into a bow._ _

__Iwaizumi sighed and dismounted, voice flat. “Sire, to what do we owe the pleasure?”_ _

__Oikawa’s lips tightened even further, but he said nothing, turning to Daichi. “Dai-chan, do you mind if I speak with Iwa-chan alone?”_ _

__“Of course,” Daichi said. Then, he faced Iwaizumi. “I’ll give you your present later, okay?”_ _

__“Okay.”_ _

__“Wait,” Oikawa asked, brow furrowing. “Present?”_ _

__Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in disbelief. He had noticed that Oikawa hadn’t wished him a happy birthday, but he assumed it was because he was too angry to- normally, Oikawa was excited on Iwaizumi’s birthday, blowing off his own chores to do whatever Iwaizumi wanted to for the day. It hadn’t occurred to him that Oikawa had actually forgot._ _

__Daichi smiled and nodded. “Yes, sire. Today is Iwaizumi’s birthday! I made him a gift, I hope you don’t mind?”_ _

__Oikawa’s mouth went slack, and his voice was small. “No…not at all.”_ _

__Daichi led the horses back into the stalls and took off, leaving Hajime and Tooru facing each other._ _

__“So,” Hajime started, “what’s happening? Are you coming to yell at me or my friends again? Or are you coming to inform me that I’ve been exiled?”_ _

__“I forgot it’s your birthday,” Oikawa said, and his bottom lip trembled._ _

__Iwaizumi was prepared for anger- not tears. He panicked. “Oh, it’s-it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”_ _

__“I can’t believe I forgot it’s your birthday! How could I forget, I never forget!” he said, hiccupping. He started to cry, hands wiping at his face. “I’m fucking awful.”_ _

__“Hey, don’t say that,” Iwaizumi said, stepping forward. “It’s okay, it really doesn’t matter, Oikawa.”_ _

__“It does!” he cried, his fingers trembling. “You’re…I’ve never forgotten your birthday before! A-and we always do something, and it- I can’t believe that I was so horrible to you on your birthday.”_ _

__Iwaizumi rubbed at his neck. He never liked being this confrontational with Tooru. “It’s…understandable. You have a lot on your mind right now. Besides, you were right- at the end of the day I’m a servant and it’s my job to serve you, not to argue with you.”_ _

__Oikawa flung himself at Iwaizumi, wrapping his arms tight around the other’s middle. He was bawling now, the ugly crying that Iwaizumi had only seen a handful of times before. “I’m so sorry! I-I never meant to yell at you, o-or Suga! I was so horrible, and- and-“_ _

__“Hey, stop crying, it’s okay,” Iwaizumi soothed, threading his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, “what’s going on in your mind? What made you so upset?”_ _

__“I just…you’ve been with me constantly with the past few weeks, and I haven’t seen you smile once- not really. I’ve just been crying and using you and draining you, and I knew I was doing it but I was too selfish to let you leave, and- then you’re with him! And he’s beautiful and he’s good to you and you were laughing, really laughing, and I just…I was so jealous.”_ _

__Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, and he slid a hand under Oikawa’s jaw, gently tilting it up. “Oikawa, never feel bad that you are unhappy- you have every reason to be upset right now and I understand that. I would never berate you or hate you for being sad and needing someone to be there; I’m glad I get to be the one who sees you like that and who can help you.”_ _

__Oikawa sniffed and blubbered, and Iwaizumi sighed and tried again._ _

__“Look, life is never going to be all smiles, okay? It’s hard, and sometimes it can really fucking suck. But even when it sucks, I still want to be with you, because if I’m not with you, then all of it kind of sucks- not just the sad parts,” he said, lip twitching a little in the ghost of a smile. “He was just messing about with me because that’s what he’s like- he’s flirty and playful and mischievous- kind of like you.”_ _

__“I don’t feel very fun lately,” the brunette whispered, clutching Iwaizumi’s top. “It’s just been so hard to keep my mind from overthinking…I have to keep moving, keep doing something, because the minute I stop it’s like it all comes crashing back, and I realise how overwhelmed I am.”_ _

__“Everything I do with you is fun,” Hajime assured him, “it doesn’t matter what we do; chess, sparring, talking- all of it is fun for me, because it’s you. Me laughing with Suga doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being with you, idiot, it just means that I can enjoy other people as well.”_ _

__“I know, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, averting his gaze. “I feel awful for everything I said to you, and to him…he didn’t deserve to be snapped at. And you- you didn’t deserve any of the horrible things I said to you. I’m so sorry, Iwa-chan, I’m so sorry-“_ _

__“Hey,” he interrupted, tilting Tooru’s head up again, “it’s fine. It hurt, but I know you didn’t mean it. You’re not a bad person, you’re a good person who did a bad thing, and I understand. So stop crying.”_ _

__“I can’t,” he said pathetically, sniffling, “I just feel so horrid…I forgot your birthday, I shouted at your friend, I called him a whore, I ruined your day and I feel like the worst person on earth right now.”_ _

__“I forgive you,” Hajime said easily, “and once you apologise to Suga, he will, too. Then, you can feel better, because we know you never meant it. So stop crying, and wipe your nose, and stand up straight. The Prince of Seijoh doesn’t walk about with snot running down his face.”_ _

__Oikawa chuckled weakly and stood up straight, rubbing at his nose and recoiling at the liquid his sleeve absorbed. “He does now.”_ _

__Iwaizumi laughed, and swiped a thumb under Oikawa’s eyes. “I know you’re sorry, so don’t be beating yourself up over it, okay? As long as you don’t exile me for speaking out of line we’re all good.”_ _

__“You weren’t out of line,” he admitted sheepishly, “I was just angry and jealous. I took it out on you guys.”_ _

__“You really have no reason to be jealous,” Iwaizumi said, gripping Tooru’s hand and tugging him back to the palace. “I don’t like Suga like that.”_ _

__“Why not? He’s beautiful, he’s all…sparkly and sweet,” he admitted begrudgingly. “And I’m just a mess.”_ _

__“Because you’re the only one for me,” he said easily, not realising how serious it sounded until Tooru started to blub again. “Oh, God, please don’t cry any more.”_ _

__“I-I can’t help it! Not when you say things like that!” He wailed, whacking Hajime on the arm._ _

__“Look, you can’t tell anyone, but you really don’t have to worry- Suga and Daichi are together.”_ _

__Oikawa gasped, always a lover of gossip. “They are?”_ _

__“Have been for a while,” Hajime nodded, “and trust me- they’re disgustingly besotted with each other. Nobody could come inbetween them.”_ _

__Oikawa smiled a little, and rested his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “I know the feeling.”_ _

__They stopped at the kitchens. Oikawa wiped at his face once more, and took a deep breath. He led the way in, head turning as he looked for a familiar head of silver hair. He spotted Koushi chopping some vegetables for dinner, and cleared his throat._ _

__Koushi turned around and yelped, immediately dropping into a bow. “Prince Oikawa!”_ _

__“Please, stand,” he said softly, his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. When Koushi stood, he rubbed at his neck. “I owe you and apology.”_ _

__“Oh, no-“_ _

__“Yes, I do,” he said firmly, and beckoned Hajime next to his side. “This morning I was very out of line, and I shouldn’t have shouted at you the way I did. The truth is, I’m very fond of Hajime, and I’ve been a little out of sorts lately, so when he is not by my side I…well, I get a little crazy.”_ _

__Suga chuckled, his stance relaxing. “It’s okay, my Lord. There’s no need to apologise.”_ _

__“I wanted to thank you as well for making Hajime’s birthday good,” Oikawa said, smiling fondly, “and for always giving him extra food. I hark on enough that he needs to put on weight, so I’m grateful you do what you can for him.”_ _

__“He is a dear friend to me,” Suga said in return, his lips pulling into a smile as he locked eyes with Hajime. “And you’re right- he’s awfully skinny. Like a little girl.”_ _

__Oikawa laughed warmly and tutted at Iwaizumi’s scowl. “Iwa-chan, he’s right! Don’t make that face.”_ _

__“It’s the only face he knows, Sire,” Koushi said solemnly._ _

__Oikawa’s lips stretched into a wide smile and he chuckled. “I like you, Suga, you’re very refreshing. I really am sorry for overreacting this morning, I hope you can forgive me.”_ _

__“There’s nothing to forgive.”_ _

__“And, as extra payment for being so gracious to both me and Iwa-chan,” Oikawa started, his voice dropping in volume, “I’ll have Iwa-chan bring you the key to one of my spare bedrooms. You and Dai-chan may use it whenever you wish. The maids do not go near it since it’s rarely in use.”_ _

__Koushi spluttered, looking between Hajime and Oikawa a few times, his eyes wide. “You- you told him?”_ _

__“Please, do not be angry at him, I may have…forced it out of him a little,” Oikawa said sheepishly, “but don’t fret- I have no plans to exile or execute you or Dai-san. I am not my father, and be rest assured- when I am King, you will not have to hide anymore.”_ _

__Koushi was speechless for a few seconds, before dropping into the deepest bow he could manage. “Thank you so much, my Lord.”_ _

__“Think nothing of it,” he said easily, “now- I’m afraid I’ve messed up Iwa-chan’s birthday quite a bit, so do you have anything that can make it better?”_ _

__“I do, actually. I made his favourite for lunch.”_ _

__Iwaizumi perked up. “Agedashi tofu?”_ _

__“Agedashi tofu,” Suga grinned, disappearing for a second to bring a plate of tofu forward. “It won’t be ready until lunchtime though.”_ _

__Oikawa waved a hand. “That’s fine, as long as he has his favourite. Where’s the head chef? What’s her name?”_ _

__“She’s the one with the grey hair over there,” Suga said, pointing out a woman, “and her name is Kiko.”_ _

__“Kiko-san,” Oikawa sang, charming smile back on his face, walking towards her._ _

__“P-prince Oikawa! You should not be in the kitchens! These are the servants’ quarters!”_ _

__“I know, but I would like to ask you a favour,” he said saccharine sweet, “it’s my servant’s birthday, and I would be very grateful if you could make him a cake of some kind?”_ _

__“A- a cake? For Hajime?” she asked, looking shocked._ _

__“Yes, please.” His eyes narrowed every so slightly. “Could you do that?”_ _

__“Um, well- yes, I could. Of course, my Lord,” she said, bowing again. “We’re very fond of Hajime down here, he’s a lovely boy. You’ve got yourself a good servant, there, my Lord.”_ _

__“Perfect, thank you so much. He really is quite lovely, so I think he deserves something nice,” Oikawa said, walking back to Iwaizumi, whose face was red as beetroot._ _

__“I don’t need a cake.”_ _

__“Well it’s your birthday, and I didn’t get you a gift, so you’re getting one,” Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms._ _

__“I’d prefer a gift.”_ _

__“Well- shut up!” Oikawa huffed, sticking his bottom lip out. “Honestly, Iwa-chan, have you always been this hard to please?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Why can’t you be cute and just smile and say thankyou like a normal person?” Oikawa asked exasperatedly. “Come on, I better get out of here before I get in trouble. Bye, Suga-kun!”_ _

__Iwaizumi nodded and started leading the way back to Oikawa’s chambers, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He walked fast, enough so that even Oikawa was struggling to keep up with him, almost jogging as they stormed down the corridors, twisting and turning until they reached a familiar oak door. He stormed into Oikawa’s room, and the minute the door closed after them he pushed Oikawa against the wall._ _

__“Iwa-chan?!” he squeaked, looking terrified._ _

__Iwaizumi said nothing, and instead kissed him. Oikawa gasped and looped his arms around Iwa’s neck, his lips slotting open to accommodate Iwaizumi’s tongue. Hajime kept a fierce grip on Oikawa’s hip, the other one tangled in his hair, and he licked into Oikawa’s mouth, pushing against Oikawa’s tongue, coaxing him.  
Oikawa let a high whine out and curved his back, breaking the kiss with a gasp. “Oh!”_ _

__“You make me so mad sometimes, you know that?” Iwaizumi murmured against his lips._ _

__“I know,” Oikawa said, his eyes fluttering shut, “kiss me again.”_ _

__Iwaizumi gripped Oikawa’s hair and pulled him forward, their lips moving in tandem. It was the first time in about a week that he’d been able to kiss Oikawa like this, been able to hold him in his arms the way they had before, and Iwaizumi hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it. Suga’s words rang in his mind on a loop and he couldn’t help but think of Oikawa marking him up, wanting him, needing him._ _

__He licked the roof of Oikawa’s mouth and the brunette shivered, his hands on Iwaizumi’s back, digging in._ _

__“God, I missed you,” Hajime whispered, biting Tooru’s lip._ _

__“I’ve missed you, too,” Tooru said, breathing heavily, “I’m sorry.”_ _

__“For what?”_ _

__“For everything,” he blurted, Iwaizumi’s lips trailing down his neck, “for pushing you away, for yelling, for forgetting your birthday, for embarrassing you, for not getting you a present-“_ _

__“You can be my present,” Iwaizumi said instantly, scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin of Oikawa’s neck._ _

__“O-okay,” he yelped, cheeks stained red as his head tilted back. Every brush of Iwaizumi’s lips sent a shiver down his spine. “Kind of a bad present.”_ _

__“Tooru,” Iwaizumi said in a low voice, “you’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. So shut up and kiss me already.”_ _

__Tooru didn’t waste any time, bringing his mouth back to Iwaizumi’s immediately. They kissed hard and fast, none of the sweet gentle kisses Iwaizumi was prone to giving, and the change in pace made Tooru’s head spin. His entire body felt warm as Iwaizumi kissed at his neck and tugged on his ear, making the brunette shiver and whine._ _

__“What brought this on anyway?” he gasped as Hajime’s leg slotted in between his. “Not that I’m complaining- I don’t even think I ever realised how good it feels to have you pressed against me.”_ _

__“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi huffed, “when you apologised and said all that stuff, and then helped Suga, it showed me that you’re not this dumb temperamental kid anymore- you’re starting to grow up.”_ _

__“So you get off on me being mature?” Oikawa asked incredulously._ _

__Iwaizumi sighed, their foreheads resting against each other. “Oikawa, does it really matter? Do you have to talk right now?”_ _

__To punctuate his point, Iwaizumi’s hand brushed by Oikawa’s crotch, and the brunette keened. “I’ll shut up.”_ _

__They went back to kissing, Iwaizumi’s hands roaming all over Tooru’s body, mapping it out piece by piece. Tooru turned his head, his voice quiet.  
“I want to try something.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__He walked towards the bed and pushed Iwaizumi down softly, settling himself between the other boy’s legs. He sat his hands on Iwaizumi’s thighs, his eyes drawn to the obvious bulge pressing against Hajime’s slacks, and bit his lip._ _

__“Tooru?”_ _

__“Just…tell me if you don’t like it, okay?” he asked hesitantly, fingers shaking slightly as he pulled the ties of Hajime’s slacks, allowing them to fall loose around his hips. “And help me.”_ _

__Iwaizumi gulped loudly and nodded, not trusting his own voice. He raised his hips as Oikawa pulled off his trousers, leaving him exposed in the cool air. It was the first time Oikawa had ever actually come close to touching him, and with the other so close, his dick twitched._ _

__Oikawa laughed silently, sliding his hands back up Iwaizumi’s tan slim legs. “Are you excited?”_ _

__“How could I not be? You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across Oikawa’s high cheekbone in a gentle caress._ _

__Tooru blushed, and kissed the hand before it retreated. He took a deep breath, and leaned forward, cautiously letting his tongue slide across the head. Iwaizumi’s breath hitched, and Oikawa did it again, this time with a bit more force. He ran his tongue up the side of Iwaizumi’s dick, encouraged by the small moans the other was giving out._ _

__“Am I doing okay?”_ _

__Hajime nodded profusely. “You’re doing amazing, keep going.”_ _

__Oikawa blushed at the praise and curled a hand around Iwaizumi’s shaft, loosely pumping him. He’d never had Iwaizumi in his hand before, and was surprised by how hot he felt. He remembered how it had been when it was Hajime’s hand wrapped around him, and his groin gave a powerful stir._ _

__“Tighter,” Hajime begged._ _

__Tooru complied, tightening his hold and giving Hajime a few slow strong stokes. He could see the boy’s thighs shaking with the effort of holding still, and leaned forward, taking the whole head into his mouth. He didn’t move, only rubbed his tongue against the slit, and tasted the first beads of precum, dripping into his mouth._ _

__“Iwa-chan doesn’t have much taste,” he murmured._ _

__Iwaizumi gave a disbelieving laugh. “Sorry.”_ _

__Taking another steadying breath, Oikawa lowered his head and took Iwaizumi into his mouth. He rubbed his tongue along the length, and as Iwaizumi groaned filthily he shuddered and tried to take more._ _

__Oikawa forced his head down and immediately spluttered, pulling off to cough. Iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, hey, don’t push yourself alright? Only take what you can, don’t force it.”_ _

__Oikawa coughed again and nodded, this time only putting in his mouth what he could fit. It was just about half of Iwaizumi’s length, so he wrapped his hand around the bottom half and sucked at the top, trying to match his rhythm._ _

__It wasn’t working out as well as he’d hoped, but Iwaizumi’s hand had grown tighter in his hair, and he bit his lip with a low groan as Oikawa bobbed his head.  
Oikawa startled as Iwaizumi’s hips began to push forward a little. He pulled off, cheeks red. “Careful, I don’t want to choke again.”_ _

__Hajime looked at him through heavy lidded eyes. “Sorry, just feels really good.”_ _

__“It does?” he asked, biting his lip. At Hajime’s nod, Oikawa removed his hand from Iwaizumi’s shaft and leaned down, taking him back into his mouth. He let his hands rest on Iwaizumi’s hips, and with a gentle urge, pulled him closer.  
Iwaizumi got the hint and started to gently shift his hips, pushing just a little more into Oikawa’s mouth each time, but never enough to choke him. He gripped Oikawa’s hair tightly and melted as the younger boy keened at the pressure._ _

__“Oikawa, suck,” he forced out through clenched teeth, eyelids fluttering._ _

__Oikawa scrunched his eyes shut and hollowed his cheeks, sucking as hard as he could. Iwaizumi felt like his spirit had left his body and groaned loud, throwing his head back. He began to circle his hips a little faster, chasing after his orgasm as it danced so closely in front of him._ _

__“Oh, God, Tooru,” he whined, fighting back the urge to grab Tooru’s head and push fully into him until the tip of his cock hit his lover’s throat._ _

__Oikawa shuddered at the use of his given name and continued to suck as hard as he could, breathing harshly through his nose. He slid one of the hands on Hajime’s hip up his chest and over a nipple, pinching it playfully._ _

__A shiver wracked through Hajime’s spine and he whined, voice barely above a whisper. “T-Tooru, I’m so close, please don’t stop.”_ _

__Hajime licked his finger and slid it across his other nipple, pinching just hard enough to send another wave of sensations through his finely tuned body, and roughly bit his lip. He could feel his orgasm mounting inside him, ready to hit him like a wave, and he wanted to cry with desperation at how badly he needed it; he hadn’t touched himself in weeks, somehow feeling wrong about doing it when he had Tooru, but it meant that now, he ached for release more than he’d ever thought possible._ _

__Tooru gave a particularly strong suck, and Iwaizumi’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He leaned forward, clutching Oikawa’s hair as he pumped his hips, body shuddering as he came. It seemed to last forever, and when he finally regained the strength to open his eyes he looked at Oikawa, who swallowed with an audible gulp and shuddered._ _

__“Definitely has a taste,” he said, scrunching his nose._ _

__Hajime pulled him up by the hair, ignoring his yelp to crash their lips together. He licked into Oikawa’s mouth, chasing any remnants of his own mess and stealing the breath from Oikawa’s lungs, pulling back with a smirk.#_ _

__“You taste fine to me.”_ _

__Oikawa’s hand slipped into his briefs and furiously pumped at his own erection, cheeks red and stomach swirling with anticipation. Hajime slipped a hand down and joined him, his broad hand covering more than Tooru’s, and held him tightly, his thumb rubbing over the slit._ _

__“H-Hajime! I’m gonna cum, gonna-“ he whined, his hips circling like mad._ _

__Iwaizumi nosed along his neck, and then bit in. “Then do it.”_ _

__Oikawa bit into his fist as he let out a high, long whine, his hips stuttering in their movements as he came over his and Hajime’s hands. When the tremors had stopped he slumped forward, both of them landing on the bed in a heap._ _

__“Woah,” Oikawa said, his voice breathy._ _

__“That…was certainly a good present,” Iwaizumi said, and then started to laugh._ _

__Oikawa couldn’t help but join in, the surreal atmosphere of the moment too much to deal with. He laughed until his stomach hurt, and then his hand found Hajime’s, and he wound their fingers together. “Was I okay?”_ _

__Iwaizumi’s clean hand slid into his hair. “Perfect.”_ _

__He blushed, and hid his face against Iwaizumi’s neck. “Iwa-chan?”_ _

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“I’m pretty sure these sheets are covered in unsavoury stains, so can you change them?”_ _

__Iwaizumi whacked him over the back of the head. “I wonder whose fault that is? But, sure, I’ll change them. For a price.”_ _

__“What price? We already pay you,” Oikawa snickered._ _

__“Let me tell everyone you’re not feeling well so I can cancel your schedule for today, and me and you just hang out instead.”_ _

__“In here?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said with a smile. “I’ve missed you, idiot. For some unknown reason, I actually like being around you.”_ _

__“Hajime loves me,” Oikawa says teasingly, drifting his fingers down Iwaizumi’s chest._ _

__Silence rings out between them for a few beats, and Oikawa starts to panic, but then:  
“Yeah, I really do.”_ _


	14. chapter 14

A month later, Iwaizumi’s mother sat him down and told him she was leaving.

“I’m going back home, Hajime,” she said tiredly.

“But, this is your home!” he argued, fists clenched in his lap. “Where are you going to go?”

“Miyagi,” she answered him, patient as ever, “I think I’ve had enough of palace life, son. I’m older than I used to be, and I just can’t keep up anymore, not like I used to.”

“But…” Iwaizumi murmured, stumped, “what will you do?”

She tilted her head. “I’ve got enough savings to get by for a while, and I’m sure I’ll be able to get a job down there. I’m not a bad seamstress, and I learned a few blacksmith tricks from your father. I’ll be okay.”

“Do you really have to go?” he asked, voice small.

It wasn’t spoken, but Hitoka understood the message: do you really have to leave me?

She lay her calloused palm against his face, smoothing thumb across his high cheekbone. “You’ll be okay, son. You have a job here, a place to stay, food, and you have Tooru, too. You won’t be alone.”

“I’ll miss you,” he admitted, feeling like a child.

“And I you,” Hitoka murmured, “but I’m not worried, and you shouldn’t be either- I’ll be okay, and I’ll write to you. I’ll only be a days travel away, so should you need me, you can find me easily.”

“If you’re even in need, you’ll tell me right? I can send you money, or even if you wish to see me, just write and I’ll be there,” he promised, holding her hand tightly in his. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I will be. Getting away from here…it’s frightening but it’s the right choice. I see Queen Eri everywhere in this palace, and it hurts too much to remain here. She was my best friend, Hajime, and I fear that staying here will only hurt me more.”

“I understand.” And he did. If he put himself in his mother’s shoes, imagined living without Oikawa, he could see easily why she would need an escape. It saddened him, but he knew that there was no time to be acting like a child, especially not when he was nearly a man. He straightened his back. “When do you leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

Iwaizumi sucked in a breath. So soon? “I see. Do you have preparations?”

“I’ve bought an old horse from the market,” she answered with a nod. “He should be able to carry me and some belongings for a day.”

Iwaizumi bit his lip in worry, but exhaled through his nose and forced his features into a smile. “Okay. I shall see you off.”

“You’re a good boy, Hajime,” she said softly, kissing him on the forehead, “I know you’ll do great things here.”

He scoffed, and wrapped his hand around her frail wrist. “I am but a servant, mother. There is not much great I can do.”

She tutted. “Nonsense; it does not matter what you are. It matters only what’s in your heart, and yours is pure. You will help Prince Oikawa become the King that Seijoh needs, I know it.”

“Thank you, mother,” he murmured back softly with a small genuine smile. “I will let you rest now, you have much to do.”

She hugged him and stepped back as he turned and walked out her door, his smile slipping the minute he knew she wouldn’t see.

Oikawa noticed his sodden face the minute Iwaizumi stepped onto the field, watching the knight recruits battling. He held up a hand to halt Matsukawa and turned around, sheathing his sword.

“Iwa-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Iwaizumi said, lost in his own thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry. It’s nothing really, it doesn’t matter.”

“Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa drawled, “don’t lie to us. You’re not very good at it.”

A vein in Hajime’s forehead popped. “Don’t you have training to do?”

Issei draped himself across Oikawa’s shoulders. “Somebody’s testy.”

“Nevermind him,” Tooru said flippantly, “he’s always like that when he’s in a mood.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Iwaizumi grunted, crossing his arms.

“Then tell us what’s wrong already,” Oikawa said gently.

“My mother is moving away,” he said with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes. “See? It’s nothing interesting.”

“Eh? Iwaizumi-san’s leaving? Where is she going?” Oikawa asked curiously.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Miyagi.”

Matsukawa whistled. “That’s a day’s travel away at the least. Why is she going?”

Hajime hesitated, but swallowed the words he was going to say. “She’s old, I guess. Palace life is starting to get too hard for her to keep up with. I think she just wants to settle somewhere.”

Oikawa looked offended. “What’s wrong with staying nearby? There’s plenty of cottages in the town that she could have stayed in. Then she wouldn’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, but I think she just wants something new,” Hajime said with a shrug. “I think that as much as she loves the palace, she wants to be away from the citadel. She wants a quieter life.”

Matsukawa pursed his lips. “When is she leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

Oikawa’s sculpted eyebrows rose. “That’s soon?”

Hajime scrunched his nose. “Yeah.”

“Will you be alright?” Oikawa asked, head tilted. The sun bounced off his chestnut hair, bringing through the deep auburn tones that seemed hidden in the cold weather.

Slightly sidetracked by the prince, Iwaizumi shook his head and refocused. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Can’t really hold onto her forever, can I? Besides, she said she’ll write, and if she needs anything she’ll let me know, so it’s okay. I was just a bit shocked.”

Matsukawa smiled warmly, flashing a slip of teeth. “You’ll be fine. I was a little sad when I moved away from my mother, but I got used to it. You will, too.”

Oikawa, standing with one hand on his hip, blew out a puff of breath that made his fringe shift. “Mattsun is right. Come on, I want to go change, I’m all sweaty.”

Iwaizumi wrinkled his nose. “I know. You smell.”

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi chuckled and simply walked beside Oikawa back up to his room, silently pulling the armour off when the prince stood still. He worked quickly and efficiently, humming as he placed all the heavy metal aside, briefly thinking that it needed a good polish. He jumped a little when a hand landed on his shoulder.

Oikawa’s brows drew together. “Really, how are you?”

“Oikawa, I’m fine,” Iwaizumi said, feeling a little uncomfortable. He couldn’t really remember the last time it had been Oikawa who comforted him, and the switch in their roles made him feel out of sorts.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” the brunette said calmly, withdrawing his hand. “Just know that if you want to speak to me you can. It’s about time I repaid the favour.”

Rolling his eyes, Hajime, pulled the rag from his belt and absentmindedly swiped at the metal, brushing over the scratches. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Sure, she’s moving away, but next year I’ll be eighteen, so it’s not like I should be upset. I would have moved away from her at some point, so it’s fine that she’s going now. Besides, if I want to, I can write to her.”

Oikawa tugged at Iwaizumi gentle, pulling him away from the metal. Hesitantly, he pulled Iwaizumi to his chest, and wrapped his arms around him, tucking the smaller boy against his frame comfortably. “Okay, I’m glad you’re alright. If there’s anything you need though, just let me know.”

Iwaizumi stilled, and then exhaled, letting the tension seep from his shoulders as he locked his arms around Oikawa’s waist, leaning against him. He hummed slightly. “There is one thing.”

“Name it and it’s yours.”

“Can you send a guard with my mother when she leaves? She’s only got this really old horse, and she’s too old to fend off bandits herself,” Iwaizumi murmured, lips pressed to the thin cotton of Oikawa’s tunic. “That would mean a lot to me, to know she’s safe.”

“Of course,” Oikawa spoke into Iwaizumi’s hair, his hands beginning to rub at his back soothingly. “I’ll send word to the guards tomorrow.”

Iwaizumi lifted his head and planted a soft kiss on Tooru’s lips. “Thank you.”

The prince smiled; it was soft and gentle, a simple tug of his lips, but it was filled with warmth, and it stirred the butterflies in Hajime’s stomach far more than Tooru’s blinding smile ever would. “You’re welcome.”

They didn’t speak for a while after that, simply content to stand and rest against each other, Oikawa’s hand briefly drifting through Iwaizumi’s thick hair, which was much softer than it looked. Iwaizumi felt his eyelids droop and grunted, wordlessly letting Oikawa know that if he continued, Hajime might just fall asleep.

“Even if you miss her, you’ll be fine,” Oikawa whispered, voice breaking the quiet that had settled, “because you’ll still have me.”

“Funny,” Iwaizumi chuckled, looking up at Oikawa through narrowed green eyes, “she said the same thing.”


	15. chapter 15

Iwaizumi’s send off to his mother hadn’t been as emotional as he’d thought. He and Oikawa stood in the citadel as she strapped her bags to the horse, and with a little help from her son, hoisted herself up onto the horse. She rode side saddle, her legs dangling off the edge of the horse, and quickly patted all her things, counting that she had them. The guard rode on his own horse next to her, standing patiently as Oikawa watched on.

“Goodbye, son,” Hitoka said with a smile, reaching down to cup Iwaizumi’s face.

“Goodbye, mother,” he said, kissing her palm. “You’ll write to me?”

“Every day,” she laughed with a grin, turning back to the horse. “Okay, let’s go.”

Hajime went and stood next to Oikawa as they watched her leave, trotting through the town until they were but a blob in the distance. When nobody was looking, Oikawa brushed their knuckles together in silent comfort.

Truthfully, time had flown very quickly since his mother left. Iwaizumi found himself now rapidly preparing the hall and the guest rooms, as Oikawa’s seventeenth birthday party was to take place in two days, and many of the guests invited would be staying at the palace with them after travelling for many days to make it to Seijoh on time.

Oikawa was loving the attention, knowing that despite his qualms with his father, the man loved to make a show of wealth and grandeur, and what better way to do that than through his son’s birthday? There was to be a huge feast, guests from all over Japan, and entertainment in the form of dancers, jesters, Geishas, jugglers, knife throwers and more. The staff were bustling in a mix of excitement and trepidation, knowing that the slightest wrong detail would ruin the King’s mood, which would be disastrous.

Iwaizumi thought about it as he sparred with Oikawa, for once having the upper hand; he was stressed over the party, and as such was filled with pent up anxiousness, filling him with jitters he had to expel. He grunted as he swiped at Oikawa again and again, quickly stepping and continuing his attack. He pushed Oikawa’s sword out of the way with his own and knocked him in the chest with his arms, shoving hard enough that the prince went down with a yelp, landing on the grass with a frown.

“Iwa-chan, be careful!” he whined, pushing himself back up. He swiped at his backside for grass stains. “You’re very focused today, where’s this coming from?”

“Your birthday party!” he scolded, crossing his arms. “It’s insanely stressful having the King breathing down your neck making sure you get everything just right- you know how meticulous he is. I have so much to do, it’s making me antsy.”

Oikawa simply laughed, shifting the grip on his shield. “Ah, come on Iwa-chan! It can’t be that bad.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “Three people have been fired for tying the ribbons on the chairs wrong, idiot. Plus, Suga’s absolutely swamped in the kitchen, the amount of food they have to prepare is unreal. I’ve never seen so much food in my life, and that’s not even all of it!”

Oikawa grinned. “I’m so excited! It’s going to be the best party ever. I can’t wait to see what everyone brings.”

“Oi,” Iwaizumi said sternly, “it’s not about the gifts. It’s about people being nice enough to come here and celebrate with you.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re so naïve,” laughed the prince, “of course it’s about the gift. These guests are all nobility from the various Kingdoms we share alliance with- it’s sort of a competition between them to see who gives the best gift. It’s like a big chance to show off how rich they are!”

Hajime tutted. “I hate rich people.”

“You’re looking forward to my birthday, though, aren’t you?” Oikawa said happily, his long lashes curving as he blinked.

“Why? I’ll be working the full day,” he said with a twist of his lips, “which means not only washing and dressing you, but setting up the hall, serving food, greeting the royalty, and watching as you drink yourself dumb.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined, his signature pout starting to form, “you could at least be a little more excited about it. I’ll save you a bit of cake.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes but relented, and smiled a little. “It might be fun seeing you make a fool of yourself.”

“I’ve never even been drunk, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Your confidence is astounding,” Hajime said dryly. “Just know that if you fall over, I will laugh before I help you up.”

“You do that anyway.”

“True.”  
· * * *  
On the day of the party, Hajime’s nerves were frazzled. He stormed into Oikawa’s room and quickly slapped the breakfast tray down, immediately zooming to the curtains to yank them open, his voice loud.

“Alright, up! Get up!”

“Eh? What the-“ Oikawa startled as he woke, hair sticking up in all directions, rubbing at the crust in his eyes. “Iwa-chan-“

“Up!” the raven shouted, grabbing the duvet and pulling it clean off the prince.

Oikawa yelped and wrapped his arms around himself. “Iwa-chan! It’s cold! What the hell!”

Hajime was already pouring the water into the bath, his nostrils flared. “Oikawa Tooru, I have a million and one things to do today, so you better get your ass out of that bed and eat your breakfast or so help me God, I will dunk this next bucket of scalding water over your head.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “You know, it’s a little hot, having you order me around like that-“

“OIKAWA!” Iwaizumi threatened, lifting the bucket in his hand.

Tooru squeaked and launched himself off the bed, scurrying over to the table. “Okay, jeez, sorry, can’t take a compliment, huh?”

At Hajime’s glare, he started shovelling food into his mouth, chewing with quick bites. He choked on one mouthful and coughed, rubbing at his throat until he could breathe.

“Don’t die, idiot,” Iwaizumi said, but his voice was softer this time.

“Why are you so rushed?” Oikawa asked, taking another bite of his food. He watched as Iwaizumi stood at his wardrobe, taking out his day wear, keeping his party wear tucked safely inside the closet.

“Because you have to be fed, washed and dressed in time to greet the nobles, and then you have a few ceremonial things to do. Presents from your father, presents from the kingdom, and you’ll be expected to take part in a few meetings with the nobles and discuss- well, whatever it is that you people talk about, I expect. Then the party will begin at six, and you have to be changed into your new clothes for that, and I expect you’ll want your hair and makeup done, also,” Hajime said with a knowing glance.

“That’s a lot of things to do today,” the brunette huffed.

“It is, so hurry up and finish that breakfast.”

Tooru shovelled more food into his mouth, munching his way through. He stopped when he’d had enough, setting down his half eaten bowls and standing. He laid a hand on his stomach and frowned. “I better not be bloated by tonight, I don’t want anyone thinking I’m fat. I worked too hard on this body to look podgy.”

Iwaizumi snickered, and walked over to Oikawa, hands already pulling his nightshirt off and tugging at the tie of his slacks. “Nobody is going to think you’re fat.”

“They better not- I want to look perfect tonight.”

“Don’t you always?” Iwaizumi uttered under his breath, taking a now naked Oikawa’s hand and pulling him towards the tub. He helped the boy in, and allowed him a single second to adjust to the temperature before he was yanking at Oikawa’s leg, scrubbing at it with the soap.

“Ow! Iwa-chan, this water is hot, be careful!”

“Shut up or I’ll dunk you.”

“My skin will burn! I’m delicate!”

Iwaizumi huffed but relaxed his hold, still washing Oikawa with the same speed, but softer now.

Oikawa began to hum as Iwaizumi worked at him, and then he looked at the other through his eyelashes, voice coy. “Iwa-chan, you still haven’t told me happy birthday.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth quirked. “It’s your birthday? Sorry, I forgot.”

“Not funny.” Tooru scowled.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, sliding his hand up to Oikawa’s neck. “Happy birthday, Oikawa.”

They both leaned forward and shared a soft kiss, and Oikawa pulled away with a smile. “Thank you.”

Iwaizumi set about his task again, quickly drying Oikawa after he was finished washing. He helped the prince into his finer clothes- the ones that were nicer than his everyday where, but not quite as nice as his special occasion wear- and guided him to his vanity table, brushing through his wet locks gently with the brush. Even if he was in a rush, he never liked to see the wince Oikawa made when Iwaizumi accidentally yanked the brush too harshly.

“So, I’ll clean up in here whilst you get ready, and when that’s done I’ll fetch you, and we’ll go downstairs,” Iwaizumi explained, “and then you can meet with your father, and greet the nobles together. I’ll be really busy today, so unless it’s really important don’t call for me, okay?”

Oikawa looked downtrodden. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said, sliding a hand next to Oikawa’s jaw to tilt his head up, “I’m not leaving you out of choice, I really will be busy today. Lucky for you, I’m your manservant, which means that I’ll be in the same room as you most of the time. Even if I can’t talk, I’ll most likely be there.”

Nodding, Tooru let their lips touch, and sighed happily. “Did you get me a present?”

“Maybe.”

“Iwa-chan, tell me!”

“Idiot,” he said as he rolled his eyes, “that defeats the purpose. You’ll get it later tonight. Now, get ready, I’m going to take your dishes away and clean this room top to bottom, and I want you out my way.”

"Yes, sir!"


	16. chapter 16

The party was phenomenal.

The great hall had been completely transformed; large wooden tables draped with turquoise covers lined the perimeter of the room, covered in every kind of food Hajime could think of. The chandeliers were lit, and the flickering flames bounced off the multifaceted crystals embedded in the metal, making light dance around the room. The luxurious turquoise carpet that lined the floor was framed in silver, and each chair was padded with a thick cushion and a large, evenly tied bow, with ribbon that trailed down to the floor.

Talk and chatter filled the room, and as Iwaizumi surveyed all the nobles that sat with goblets in hand, all of them dressed in the finest of fabrics and thick glittering jewels, he felt his eyes flit to where they had for the hundredth time that night:

Oikawa.

His prince was sitting in the middle of the head table, next to his father, looking every bit the royalty he was. His hair was curled perfectly, shining under the light of the candles and the warm orange gaze of the wall torches, and his skin was perfectly pale, contrasting against the darkness of his eyebrows, and the thin long line of ink that lined his eyelids. His eyelashes were as long and dark as ever, and they cast long shadows across his high cheekbones, which held the rosiest of blushes. His lips were plush and plump, stretching back perfectly over his glinting teeth, and his laugh rang out across the room, like the chiming of bells.

He was dressed in his most luxurious clothes, in a brand new outfit made just for the occasion. It was the finest kimono Iwaizumi had ever seen, with a turquoise bodice swirling with intricate silver patterns, and a high collar, the steeping neckline flashing the delicate curve of his throat and collarbone, milky white. The shoulder pads too, turquoise and silver, mimicked his armour, jutting out ever so slightly, allowing for the harsh contrast of his long billowing sleeves to have full effect; they were a glittering silver, bursting with handstitched turquoise leaves and blossoming flowers, only noticeable when the light caught his movement. 

The sleeves were long enough to grace his knees, but not enough to touch the floor, and Hajime was struck by how much they mimicked the floor length sleeves of a young unmarried woman’s kimono; he supposed the sleeves were a direct request from Oikawa. The fabric fell from his trim waist to the floor, a blinding aqua, with real flowers preserved and sewn in to look as though they were scattering down to the floor, dispersed by an invisible wind. A thin veil of silver fabric poked out from underneath the trim of the kimono, and the lining of Oikawa’s sleeves were also aqua.  
On his head sat a brilliant crown- Oikawa loved any large celebration, for it was the only time he was able to wear his crown; it fit his head perfectly, and was a shining gold, encrusted with chalcedony, opals and sapphires.

In truth, he looked absolutely beautiful, and Iwaizumi couldn’t stop staring.

Iwaizumi himself had done his best to dress up; he was wearing the new slacks Daichi had gotten him for his birthday, and they were more tight fitting than his regular ones. He wasn’t sure that was a great idea when he caught sight of himself in a mirror and saw that his legs looked like two chopsticks.

His yukata was a new one that he’d purchased from the citadel earlier in the week, and it was a deep turquoise, similar to the shade of Oikawa’s kimono. It had minimal detail though, simply edged in a deep blue trim, the pleats of the fabric falling lightly. Most of the staff had dressed in similar colours, proudly supporting their Kingdom as they worked. Continuously, food was brought out, and Iwaizumi held a bottle of sake in his hands, standing alert as he looked for empty glasses to fill.

“Here, boy,” a voice called, and beckoned him over.

Hajime wrinkled his nose but walked over anyway, filling up the glass and bowing deeply, knowing that the King was watching at all times. Thankfully, the man himself had had a bit to drink himself, and was more friendly than usual, laughing loudly with his friends as they slapped their hands on the table.  
Oikawa was chatting with everyone who called his name, turning this way and that to answer the calls of Kings, business men and princesses, all seemingly enamoured with him. Iwaizumi clenched his jaw, but otherwise didn’t say anything, knowing that if he had to see Oikawa flirtatiously talk with all those who looked at him, he’d probably break the bottle in his hands.

“Iwa-chan, more sake,” called a happy voice, and Iwaizumi sighed.

He walked over and poured Oikawa’s goblet up again, eyebrow twitching. “Careful, sire, you don’t want to drink too much and make a fool of yourself in front of Lord Tachi.”

Oikawa simply sipped more from his drink, and laughed loudly. “If I do, then I hope Lord Tachi has the good graces to forget it!”

The old man chuckled, his own cheeks rosy red. “The follies of youth are a delight, Prince Oikawa. Please, drink as you wish- it is your birthday, and cause for celebration.”

“You’re absolutely right!” Oikawa said, and chucked back the rest of his sake with a single gulp. He grinned widely and started to laugh, and Iwaizumi’s stomach twisted when everyone else seemed to laugh along with him, entranced by the stunning prince of Seijoh.

A small thin woman with an angular face and long brown hair piled on top of her head in thick rolls cleared her throat, voice clipped and powerful. “Your son is rather beautiful, King Oikawa.”

The king hummed. “Yes, he looks very much like his mother. If not for his hair and his height, he could pass for a lady!”

They laughed, and Oikawa’s cheeks darkened a little in embarrassment. The woman smiled at him. “Don’t worry, my Lord- when you finally take a bride, you will produce the most beautiful heirs in all of Japan.”

Oikawa shot her a charming smile, fluttering his eyelashes. “Thankyou, Lady Hana. I understand I am more…delicate in my features, but I hope it will not deter me in my goal to get a wife.”

One of the princesses, a tall girl with poker straight hair falling down her back in a curtain leaned forward, tucking a lock of her obsidian locks behind her ear with a tapering finger. Her eyes were very large and a dark blue, looking almost brown in the light. “Please, prince Oikawa, you are perfect for marriage; you are a trained fighter, educated, beautiful, and your Kingdom is powerful and strong. When it is time for you to marry, you shall not be short of suitors.”

Oikawa bit his lip. “Will you be on that list?”

She blushed at his forwardness, but tilted her head, hair glistening. “Perhaps.”

Iwaizumi clenched the wine hard in his fists, willing himself to calm down. Oikawa was a flirty person on his own, but with a drink in him he was even worse, shooting smiles to everyone in the room, laughing just little too loud for Iwaizumi’s taste. He knew that the idiot was too pissed to even register what he was doing, but he still wanted to whack him upside the head.

The King gulped more sake and sat his goblet down a little too heavily. “Now that he is nearing that age, I can only hope that he will do me proud. I have made this Kingdom into what it is, and it is my wish that Tooru will rule over it and do right by me when it is his time.”

Oikawa’s unfocused gaze drifted to his father and his smile faltered. “I’ll try, father.”

“Oh, leave the boy alone,” chuckled Lord Tachi with a smile directed at his old friend, “he’s still young, and you’ll be on the throne for a while. Give him some time to sort himself out and he’ll be a fine King.”

The two men fell back into a conversation, and Oikawa allowed himself to be entertained by the dancers, performing acrobatics as they balanced themselves on each other’s bodies. The jesters were drawing cards and juggling, walking by the tables with large smiles on their faces, and a fire breather stood in the middle, blowing out giant streams of flames with every gulp.

Iwaizumi would have loved to stand and watch him, but people were clicking their fingers at him, waiting for their drinks to be refilled. He huffed as he filled them up, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible lest he give someone a bad impression. Then, he heard a few taps on a glass, and Oikawa had stood.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Oikawa Tooru, but- hic!- but you probably knew that!” he said as he laughed, a hand resting on the table. “I just want to thank everyone who travelled to be here tonight, and thank you for all your wonderful gifts! Lord Tachi, the stationary set you got me is beautiful, and will surely better my penmanship; and- and Lady Hana, thankyou very much for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful.”

She smiled at him, and waved him off.

“Anyway, there are so many people I could thank, and I now have a whole new wardrobe, library and jewellery collection thanks to you wonderful people, and I would especially like to thank all those who brought me the finest swords from their forgery- I will use them in battle!” he grinned, wobbling slightly. “I’m very lucky to be spending this night with you, and I hope you have enjoyed my company as much as I’ve enjoyed yours. For as long as you wish, you are welcome in Seijoh, and welcome in my castle.”

The crowd started to cheer and Oikawa sat back down going to drink from his cup before realising it was empty. “Iwa-chan!”

The King then stood up, and the cheers quietened. “I would also like to thank everyone who made the efforts to come today. You have made Tooru’s celebrations wonderful, and he is right- you are all welcome in Seijoh. So eat as much as you want, drink as much as you can, and dance until you fall over!”

Iwaizumi winced as everyone began to loudly cheer again, their hands slapping tables and brash laughter ringing out in the room. It was too loud, nipping at his skull, and still he could hear Oikawa yelling for him.

“What?”

“Can I have more sake?” he asked, blinking at Iwaizumi with big doe eyes.

“If you can stand up on your own without wobbling, then sure,” he murmured wearily, unsure if Oikawa could even hear him.

“What?” Oikawa yelled much too loudly, and he pushed his chair back, attempting to stand. He took a step and tripped, smashing into Iwaizumi’s chest with a light giggle. “Whoops.”

Iwaizumi sighed through his nose and tried to right Oikawa, but the brunette simply grinned and grabbed at his hands, trying to twist and turn to the music of the koto and the shakuhachi.

“Sire, what on earth are you doing?”

“Dancing with Iwa-chan!”

Lady Hana stifled a giggle beneath her palm and turned to the King. “Your son is a rather unique one, isn’t he? He’s very like his mother.”

The King watched as Oikawa landed on Iwaizumi again, and huffed in annoyance. “He’s very fond of that boy, especially for him being a servant. They’ve been friends ever since Tooru was eight years old. I was hoping that by now some of- Iwaizumi, I think his name is- his sternness would have rubbed off on Tooru, but it seems not. As always, my son has his head stuck in the clouds.”

She laughed quietly. “He’s delightful, don’t you think? He certainly knows how to charm people. I can only assume that he has never set foot in a tavern before, if this is how brazenly he acts with a drink in him.”

“Eri was never fond of him drinking,” the King explained, “so I do believe this is his first time. I must move him before he embarrasses me further. You, boy!”

Iwaizumi turned his head. “Yes, my Lord?”

“Take my son to his chambers,” the King said curtly, “he’s had enough tonight, I think.”

“Of course, sire,” Iwaizumi said, and looped his hand around Oikawa’s waist, pulling the boy’s arm around his neck.

In such a heavy kimono, Oikawa was ten times harder to move, especially since he kept tripping and talking all the way, calling out to the people behind them.  
“The party isn’t over, Iwa-chan!”

He snickered. “It is for you, King’s orders.”

Oikawa sniffed, looking dejected. “But I didn’t get to drink as much as I wanted to.”

“Well I didn’t get to drink at all,” Iwaizumi countered with a raised eyebrow, “so shush. Besides, the last thing you need is more to drink.”

“I have gifts in my room!” Oikawa exclaimed as they turned down a hallway. “Iwa-chan can drink some of my sake!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Iwa-chan, please? I want to party with you too,” he pouted tugging on Iwaizumi’s yukata. “Especially since you’re dressed so nice! Iwa-chan looks good in aqua.”

Iwaizumi blushed, but pushed open Oikawa’s door and helped him in, gently depositing him on the bed with a huff. “Please, I look like shit compared to you.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, scandalised. “No, no, my Iwa-chan is beautiful. Sooo beautiful…”

Hajime couldn’t help but laugh, and he took Oikawa’s shoes and socks off, letting his hands skim across the fabric of the kimono. “Alright, come on. I need to get you changed for bed.”

Oikawa hummed his consent, happy to be lying somewhere soft, and Iwaizumi got to work. He was extra careful as he manoeuvred Oikawa’s body free from the various draping fabric, holding the fine silks inbetween his fingers.

“Why did you have one made with such long sleeves?”

Oikawa snorted. “Because I’m a slut for the theatrics, duh.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes but laughed anyway, slipping a hand up Oikawa’s back as he moved him forward so he could move the fabric out from under him without damaging it. It was pooled around his hips now.  
“You seemed eager to marry earlier.”

“Eh? No, Iwa-chan, that’s just royalty talk,” he sniffed, “it’s what they expect you to say. I can’t get married to any of the princesses!”

“Why not?” Iwaizumi humoured him.

“Because I’m much prettier than them. It’s not fair.”

Iwaizumi barked a laugh, and he let his hand drift down Oikawa’s chest, fingertips trailing across the sensitive skin. “That’s true. You look beautiful tonight, Tooru. The prettiest person in all of Japan.”

Oikawa blushed hard, and he looped an arm around Iwaizumi’s neck, pulling him closer. “Say it again.”

“You’re beautiful,” Iwaizumi whispered against his lips, hand splayed on Oikawa’s abs. “So fucking beautiful, you’re prettier than any princess could ever be.”

“Hajime,” Oikawa whined, parting his lips to kiss the other, his tongue impatiently sliding across Hajime’s lips, waiting for him to open.

He did, and immediately Oikawa’s tongue met his, gently pushing against each other. Oikawa tasted like wine and he kissed deeply, letting out a low moan as he clung to Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi pulled back with a pant. “Oikawa, your kimono, I need to finish taking it off-“

“I don’t care,” he whined, already pulling Iwaizumi back on top of him, “just kiss me again.”

Iwaizumi lay on top of Tooru, and felt one of his hands slip under the fabric of Hajime’s yukata, skimming across the skin and tweaking a nipple. He grunted and broke off Oikawa’s lips, kissing down his jaw and along his neck, scraping his teeth across Oikawa’s perfect skin. The brunette shivered beneath him and tilted his head back, a hand slithering into Hajime’s hair and pulling.

Iwaizumi sucked at the junction of his neck, and Oikawa let out a high whine. “H-hajime!”

Iwaizumi moved down again, letting his tongue drift across one of Oikawa’s nipples, taking it gently between his teeth as he nipped at it, loving the way Oikawa’s back arched. He felt Oikawa’s hips gyrate, and knew that underneath the fabric of the kimono, he would be hard.

“Hajime, please,” he gasped.

Iwaizumi groaned and sat back on his hunches. “I’m getting you out of this kimono, because you’re gonna kill me in the morning if it’s ruined.”

“Fine, whatever, just get back here,” Oikawa replied petulantly, chest heaving and neck red.

Iwaizumi carefully pulled the rest of the kimono off, slipping it down Oikawa’s slender legs, leaving the brunette naked on the bed. He laid the outfit over the chair and took a deep breath to calm himself before he turned back around, seeing Oikawa with a hand around his cock, panting.

Iwaizumi was back on top of him in an instant, swallowing down his moans as they kissed again, not too worried about being loud seeing as the staff were all downstairs catering to the party.

Oikawa broke apart to quickly pull his crown off and rest it on his bed side table, and then he was pulling Iwaizumi back onto him. He pawed at Iwaizumi’s clothes. “Get these off.”

Hajime quickly untied his obi and let the yukata fall to the sides of his chest, shuddering as Oikawa’s hands pushed it down and off his shoulders, revealing Hajime’s body more and more with each inch. He saw Oikawa lick his lips and lean forward, running his tongue from chest to neck, ending it with a bite. Iwaizumi shifted his hips on top of Oikawa’s and whined, hands buried in Tooru’s hair.

“Hajime,” Oikawa gasped, eyes closed.

“Yeah?”

“I want to do it,” he said softly, “I want to go all the way tonight.”

Hajime threw his head back and let out a groan, but he shifted his gaze back to Oikawa, feeling hesitant. “I don’t know, Tooru…”

“Why not?” He looked at Iwaizumi with sad eyes.

“Because you’ve had a lot to drink,” Iwaizumi said, cursing himself for trying to argue with Oikawa. “I don’t know if you really want it or if you just want it because you’re drunk.”

“I want it because it’s you,” Tooru uttered, sucking on Hajime’s neck again. His hand slid down to Iwaizumi’s slacks, and pushed against his bulge. “Don’t you want to do it, too?”

“Of course I do,” he mumbled, biting his lip, “but I won’t, not until I know you’re sober.”

Oikawa growled and flung himself backwards against his pillows, fingers gripping at his own hair in frustration. “Hajime, can you please not be such a good guy right now? I really, really want to lie with you, more than I want anything else. Please, I swear I want it.”

Hajime leaned down, and ghosted their lips together. “Midnight.”

“Huh?”

“It’s only eight,” Hajime explained softy, “so we’ll wait till midnight. As long as you don’t drink any more, the alcohol’s effects will have lessened by then, and I’ll know what you really want. So, midnight?”

Oikawa blinked up at him, and then gave a small smile. “Midnight.”

They kissed again, softy this time, until Oikawa broke it off. “But can we please do something else? I’m really turned on.”

Hajime laughed, and nodded, kissing back down Oikawa’s chest, teasing his nipples until they were hard, blowing air on them just to watch Tooru shivering. He trailed his tongue all the way down, dipping into the curves of his muscles, until he reached Oikawa’s dick, straining hard, precum leaking out the top. He licked up the side, and felt his stomach flutter when Oikawa groaned filthily, his legs opening wantonly.

Iwaizumi licked again, pressing open mouthed kisses to Oikawa’s length until it was coated in his spit. He cautiously ran his tongue along the head to sweep up the precum and shuddered- Oikawa wasn’t lying about the taste. Still, when Oikawa’s hand slid into his hair, he got over it, and suckled on the head, trying to remember how the different sensations had felt when Oikawa did the same to him. He took as much into his mouth as he could, and felt his jaw twinge as he began to move, keeping his pace steady, teeth carefully tucked away behind his lips.

The last thing he needed was to accidentally bite Oikawa, and have him scream so loud the guards came running.

Oikawa’s gentle moans coaxed him on, and Hajime added a bit more force, sucking as he moved. He discovered he could get a little further than Oikawa had with him, as long as he did it slowly, and so agonisingly, he pushed down, and the sucked hard on the way back up.

Oikawa let out a high pitched whine, his fingers playing with one of his nipples and the other one tightened in Hajime’s hair. His hips had begun to gyrate, so Iwaizumi pinned them down, and continued to suck, gradually increasing his pace once he was comfortable he wasn’t going to choke.

“Hajime…”

Iwaizumi hummed since he couldn’t speak with Tooru in his mouth, and was surprised when Oikawa’s thighs shook.

“Oh my God, do that again,” he insisted.

Iwaizumi frowned but hummed again, eyes widening when Oikawa bit into his knuckle, breathing coming faster and faster.

“Oh god, Hajime, you feel amazing, you’re amazing,” he panted into the quiet room.

Hajime blushed and sucked harder to hide his embarrassment, desperate suddenly to get Oikawa to cum before he did. It would be embarrassing to cum in his pants.  
Oikawa groaned and tilted his head back, no words coming out. His hand forced Iwaizumi’s head down a little and he whined, his hips trying their best to pump beside their restraints. “So close- I’m so close-“

After a few more hard sucks, Oikawa’s dick was spasming in his mouth, long jets of cum shooting into Iwaizumi’s mouth. He swallowed the bitter liquid quickly to avoid choking, and let Oikawa fall out his mouth when he’d finally stopped, thighs shaking from the aftershock.  
“God, that really does taste disgusting.”

Oikawa let out a high pearl of laughter, one oh his hands blindingly reaching for Iwaizumi to pull him closer. “Told ya.”

Iwaizumi moved closer, grunting when Tooru rolled him onto his back and straddled him, hand wandering down to the tie of Iwaizumi’s bottoms. He pulled it and bit his lip as enticingly, Iwaizumi’s bottoms were pushed down his body, revealing his very obvious hard on.

Oikawa’s fingers traced Iwaizumi’s mouth, and when the lips parted, he pushed through, pressing into Hajime’s tongue. Iwaizumi caught on quickly and covered Oikawa’s fingers with his tongue, coating them in saliva. When Oikawa deemed them wet enough, he wrapped them around Iwaizumi’s dick, gripping tight.  
He wasted no time, pumping him hard and fast, and Iwaizumi gasped, his hips thrusting into Oikawa’s fist. “God, Tooru, just like that.”

He came embarrassingly quickly, but he couldn’t even find it in him to care, too focused on the pleasure that was finally releasing from his core, spreading through his veins like a sedative. He slumped back in exhaustion, and after Oikawa had disgustingly wiped his hand on the sheets, he flopped down too on top of Iwaizumi, content.

“That was good,” he said easily.

Iwaizumi snickered. “Yeah, it was.”

They lay in bed together for a while, simply calming down from the aftershocks. Tooru let his hand lay against Iwaizumi’s heartbeat, and Iwaizumi threaded his fingers through Oikawa’s tousled hair, scratching at his scalp.

“I can’t believe I got so much stuff,” Oikawa said with an amused smile. “What am I meant to do with 7 new chess sets?”

“Combine them all and make a giant chess game?”

“Silly, Iwa-chan, that’s not how chess works,” Oikawa tutted. He smiled into the skin of Iwaizumi’s chest. “Iwa-chan’s gift is the best.”

“My gift?”

“Yeah, this.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “This isn’t your gift, idiot.”

“Eh? But I thought-“

“This is just because I can’t say no to you,” he said with a pointed stare, “but I do actually have a gift for you. Do you want it now?”

“Mm,” Oikawa pondered, “no. You can give it to me at midnight, too.”

“Alright then, midnight it is,” Hajime whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair.


	17. chapter 17

When midnight finally rolled around, the party still raged on beneath them, the tunes carried through the empty corridors like an echo. Iwaizumi could hear the cheers and the jeers of the men and the mellifluous chitters of the woman, all vying to be heard over the music, which felt like it was getting louder with every passing hour, much to his chagrin.

“I’m not even sure I want to see what state they’ve left that room in,” Iwaizumi muttered darkly, lying on Oikawa’s bed with the boy tucked against his chest.

Oikawa hummed, his ear pressed against Iwaizumi’s heartbeat. He tapped his finger on Hajime’s chest in time, like a metronome. “I thought their celebrations would slow down after I left, but they’ve only gotten louder; I don’t think they were really celebrating me at all, they just wanted an excuse to drink and party.”

Iwaizumi petted his hair sympathetically. “That’s what the nobles are like, you know that. They use all events as an excuse to strengthen ties, discuss trade, try and weasel in any way that can benefit them. At least they showed up and gave you gifts.”

“That’s true,” Oikawa murmured, “being royalty sucks sometimes.”

“Let me know when you want to swap places,” Hajime snorted.

Oikawa pushed himself up and grinned, reaching over to pick up his discarded crown. “Would you swap places, if you could?”

Hajime pursed his lips in thought. “Maybe- it would give me a lot of time to properly train; I could become a knight of Seijoh. Can you imagine that?”

“Yeah, I can,” he said softly, cupping Iwaizumi’s face, “you’d make a wonderful knight.”

Iwaizumi smiled gratefully, wrapping his fingers around Oikawa’s wrist and squeezing it lightly. “It’s nice to dream.”

“Hush,” Oikawa said, beginning to laugh. He placed the crown on top of Iwaizumi’s head, pulling back with a satisfied glint in his eye. “There. Tonight, you’re a prince, and a knight, and anything else you want to be.”

Iwaizumi touched the cool metal on his head, unexpecting of its weight. It was heavier than he’d anticipated, and he had a fleeting thought that Oikawa’s rigid posture and straight head never bore any signs of the strain. In his head, a picture flashed: him, standing next to Oikawa in the throne room, both dressed in the finest of clothes, with glittering gold crowns perched upon their heads. He looked out at the sea of people, cheering and smiling, and looked down to see his hand clasped tightly in Oikawa’s. His lips smiled involuntarily at the image.

But then, reality kicked in, and carefully Iwaizumi lifted the crown from his head, setting it back down on the bedside table. “I’m fine with just being Iwaizumi tonight.”

Oikawa kissed him lightly on the lips and bumped their foreheads together. “That’s fine with me, too.”

“Hey, do you want your present now?”

A raised eyebrow. “Is it midnight?”

“Almost,” Hajime answered, slipping out of bed. He was still shirtless, but his slacks sat loose against his hips, the fabric clinging to his hipbones as he moved. Shielding his hands to Oikawa, Iwaizumi found his yukata, and reached into the inside pocket. “Close your eyes and put your hands out.”

“Alright, but if you put your dick in my hands I’ll crush it,” Tooru said lightly, placing his hands out.

Iwaizumi sighed wearily. “I’m not Hanamaki, so that’s not going to happen. Just shut up and keep your eyes closed.” Then, Hajime turned around and hesitantly placed the present in Oikawa’s hand, watching as his fingers curled around it. “Open.”

Oikawa opened his eyes and gasped. There, in his hands, was his mother’s hairbrush, except that it bore no mark or crack from when his father had shattered it. He ghosted his fingers over the thin metal, tracing the intricate patterns that swirled up the handle, and followed the glitters of light that bounced off it from his candle. He rubbed his thumb over the jewels, and looked up at Hajime with wondrous eyes.

“How? My father, h-he broke it! How did you fix it?”

“I do have some blacksmith skills, you know,” Hajime chuckled, “but I took it to a jewellers first, and asked if he could reset the jewels. Then I went to the forgery and melted some silver down, joined the broken halves, and sanded it down until there was no mark. All it needed after that was a polish.”

Oikawa turned it over in his hands, and sniffed loudly, his eyes welling up with tears. “Hajime…”

Iwaizumi panicked. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

“No, you idiot,” Oikawa huffed with a trembling smile, “I love it. I really love it, thank you.”

Hajime kissed the top of Oikawa’s head as he was pulled into a hug, the prince clinging to him with a vice grip. Oikawa began to pepper his neck and face in kisses, murmuring his thanks over and over, his lips flitting across Hajime’s cheeks and eyelids with the gentleness of a butterfly.

Hajime laughed and cradled Oikawa’s face, pulling him back for a kiss on the lips. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“It’s the best thing I could have gotten,” he said truthfully. They kissed again, slower this time, and Hajime was distantly aware of Oikawa reaching behind him to set the brush down. Oikawa’s tongue slid across his bottom lip and out of reflex he parted, allowing the brunette to slide against him perfectly. “Hajime, I want you.”

He felt Oikawa’s hands bunching in his slacks and moaned breathily. “You sure?”

Oikawa moved to his jaw, plush lips pressing against the sensitive skin. “I am. I’m ready, and I mean it.”

Hajime felt a shudder rack through his whole body, and he felt Oikawa’s hands on his chest, pushing him down against the soft bed of pillows and feather duvets, easily settling on top of him. The prince sucked at his neck and relished in the moan that escaped from Hajime’s lips, his pale hands dragging down the slim torso of his servant, following the dips and curves of his body. He thumbed Hajime’s hipbones, digging his thumbs into the dips, inching closer to the boy’s growing bulge. He nosed along it and let his hot breath seep through the thin fabric.

“Oikawa, please,” Hajime whispered, his hands curling in the blankets.

Oikawa shuddered and carefully tugged Iwaizumi’s slacks down, smiling ever so slightly when the servant lifted his body to help manoeuvre the garment down, and when he pulled it past his feet, Oikawa haphazardly threw it somewhere else in the room.

“Don’t make a mess, I’ll have to clean it later,” Hajime half joked, and Oikawa rolled his eyes.

He leaned forward and slotted their lips together, moaning when Iwaizumi’s length bumped against his own. He broke apart and rested their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

“I want you so much.”

Iwaizumi’s hand was in his hair. “I want you too, Tooru.”

Shuddering at the use of his given name, Oikawa dragged his lips across Iwaizumi’s jaw, and licked at the shell of his ear, nibbling it just enough to force a shiver down Iwaizumi’s spine. He sucked at his neck, bruising the skin a delicious purple, and let his hand sit at the base, thumb pressed against his pulse.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against the skin.

“Touch me,” Iwaizumi said, wrapping his fingers around Oikawa’s hand and pushing it from his neck down towards his hips.

Oikawa took the hint and brought his hand up to Iwaizumi’s mouth, gently brushing across his lips until they opened, and Iwaizumi sucked on Oikawa’s fingers, gaze averted as a deep red coloured his cheeks. When he was done, Oikawa kissed his cheek in thanks and held him loosely, starting with a few gentle tugs. He bit his lip and pushed himself against Hajime’s thighs, so hard that he was beginning to drip precum.

He smoothed his thumb over the head of Iwaizumi’s dick and grunted when a high whine left his boyfriend’s lips. “Hajime,” he started, ducking his head, “I want you, but- I don’t know what- I don’t know-“

“Shh,” he soothed, cupping Oikawa’s face and tilting it up, “it’s alright. We’ll do it together, okay? Here, go get your bath oil.”

Oikawa nodded and ambled off the bed, walking funny due to his heavy erection, and picked up his bath oil, watching as the light glinted off the little glass bottle. He nested between Iwaizumi’s legs, cheeks blushing furiously. “Now what?”

Hajime held his hand and turned it palm side up. “Pour some onto your fingers, just like that. There you go.”

Oikawa looked at his oil slicked fingers, and gave an almost startled laugh. “Haji, where did you learn his?”

He turned bright pink. “I may have talked to Suga, but- oh shut up! Here, touch me…there.”

Iwaizumi shyly spread his legs, and Oikawa quietened down, shifting in his seat. He gulped and lowered his hand behind Iwaizumi’s balls, drifting lower until he skimmed across his hole, and they both flinched.

Iwaizumi chuckled and tilted his head back. “Sorry, got a bit of a fright.”

“Me, too,” the brunette admitted, and they shared a smile, some of the tension dispelling. “Hajime? What now?”

Iwaizumi’s hand slunk down and wrapped around himself, and he began to move. “Put one in me.”

Oikawa moaned at the sight of Hajime pleasuring himself, but he shook his head and focused, taking one of his fingers and rubbing it around in a small circle, not entering yet, waiting for Iwaizumi’s guard to be let down. Then, he pushed in.

He got the tip in and then was met with some resistance. Seeing Hajime take a deep breath, he was surprised when the resistance faded a little, and he could push in a little more. He wiggled it a little, his eyes wide.

“Come on, stop messing about,” Iwaizumi said gruffly.

Oikawa’s eyes crinkled at the side and he pushed slowly in, his whole finger seated. He gently stroked along Iwaizumi’s walls, and was surprised to feel that it was warm, and soft, and that when he pressed down, it was a bit like a sponge.

Hajime grunted and wiggled his hips a little, a bodily flush spreading across him. “God, you’re deeper than I got.”

“Hajime, do you mean that you did this to yourself?” Oikawa gaped, his mouth open in shock. At Iwaizumi’s grunt and deep blush, he grinned, and started to thrust his finger faster. “That’s…hot. Are you sure you’re not a concubine, Iwa-chan?”

He slapped Oikawa round the head lightly. “Shut up, idiot.”

Oikawa laughed gently, and simply kissed him, their tongue brushing together as he nudged his second finger against Iwaizumi’s opening, waiting for permission. When Iwaizumi gave a breathy nod, Oikawa pushed ahead, groaning along with Iwaizumi as his finger edged its way in, rubbing against his walls in a soothing pattern.

“Burns,” Iwaizumi murmured, eyes scrunching tight.

Oikawa felt for him, and kissed his cheek. “I know, but you’re doing perfect. You’re perfect for me, Hajime. Can’t you see how much I want you?”

Iwaizumi shuddered and clutched Oikawa, his eyes cracking open as he drank in the sight of Oikawa looming over him, cock flushed and curved towards his stomach, dripping heavily. He bit his lips and nodded, not trusting his own voice.

Feeling the muscles around him relax, Tooru pushed his other finger in slowly, all the while murmuring to Iwaizumi, sweet nothings to calm him down. When he spread his fingers, scissoring them and pushing against the walls, Iwaizumi grunted, and Oikawa tried to sooth him by stroking his walls. He bumped over something, and Iwaizumi shot to attention.

“Oh my god, do it again,” he gasped, hips shifting.

Oikawa hurried tried to move his fingers, but in the shock of Iwaizumi moving he had lost the place and he cursed. “Damnit, I can’t find it.”

“Hey, it’s alright, just-“ Iwaizumi started, grabbing Oikawa’s hand and changing his position a little, “try it now.”

When Oikawa moved his fingers again, he coasted over the spot again, and Iwaizumi’s legs fell open, almost like an invitation. Hajime’s body trembled underneath him, and long drawn out whines filled the air between them. Oikawa couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hajime, please can we do it now? I don’t think I can wait any more,” he whined, pleading at Iwaizumi with his large doe eyes.

The tan boy slid his hand into Oikawa’s hair, and pulled him close for a kiss. “Yes. Get the oil again.”

Oikawa gently pulled his fingers from Hajime, and fumbled with the bottle of oil, almost dropping it in his haste. Hajime laughed at him and took the bottle, opening it easily. He poured it into his hand, and then wrapped it around Oikawa’s member, slicking him up with quick precise pumps.

Oikawa’s hips jumped and he batted Hajime’s hand away. “Stop, I’ll cum.”

“That quick?”  
Oikawa yelped in embarrassment. “Shut up! This is my first time, okay? I can’t help it if I’m not good at lasting.”

“I was only kidding, it’s alright,” he replied gently, tugging Oikawa towards him. “You’ll be perfect.”

Kissing him gratefully, Oikawa touched their foreheads. “You ready?”

“One second, hand me that pillow,” he murmured, taking the offered item and slipping it underneath his hips. “Okay, there. I’m ready.”

Oikawa took a deep breath and grabbed himself with one hand, positioning himself at Iwaizumi’s entrance. He ached to shove in, but forced himself to take it slow, pushing ever so gently until the head, eventually, started to push through.

“Ugh, bigger than fingers,” Iwaizumi hissed.

Fear paralysed Oikawa. “Should I stop?”

“No, keep going, it’s fine,” he grunted, breathing deeply.

Oikawa pushed forward a little more, flinching every time Iwaizumi groaned in pain. He noticed the boy’s erection had flagged, and he reached out and gripped it, beginning to jerk him as he pushed forward. Iwaizumi grit his teeth at the numerous sensations, but as Oikawa began to thumb his slit, his hips canted automatically, and the head was in.

Oikawa waited, and watched as Iwaizumi’s body let go of the tension it was clinging to. He lay still for a minute, and then wiggled his hips. “It’s okay, the ache is fading a little now. Keep going.”

Not one to argue, Oikawa pushed forward, a little surprised to see that although not effortless, it was a little easier now. He could see that the pain was less on Iwaizumi as well, who had begun to respond to him more.

After another few gentle coaxings and patient waiting, Oikawa pushed forward and was fully seated in Iwaizumi, surrounded by a warm, wet heat. He groaned with abandon, voice breathy with the strain of holding back his hips. “Dear God, Hajime you feel amazing.”

He could only pant in return, one hand clutching the bed sheets and the other wrapped around Oikawa’s neck, holding him close. He kissed him roughly, a string of saliva dangling between them when they broke apart. “Move, now.”

Not needing to be told twice, Oikawa shuddered with relief and finally allowed his instinct to take over. He started slowly, just shifting and pulling back every so slightly, but once Iwaizumi had gotten used to the fullness, he tapped the boy’s back twice, a silent urge for him to go faster. He began to thrust his hips, one hand bracing himself as it lay next to Iwaizumi’s head, and the other clutching the tan leg wrapped around his waist for leverage as he slammed in. He scrunched his eyes shut as he moved, unable to do anything other than moan, as the pleasure that he had so desperately wanted flowed through every nerve in his body.

Iwaizumi kissed his open mouth. “Shh, you’re too loud.”

Oikawa just moaned and kissed him back, far too focused to properly hear any words. He could feel his orgasm mounting up in him and his hips pushed deep into Hajime, grinding against him. He struck that spot a few times, and Hajime’s back curved deliciously every time that happened, but Oikawa couldn’t attempt to aim for it anymore, not when he was this close.

Iwaizumi didn’t seem to mind, choosing instead to wrap a fist around himself and jerk in time with Oikawa’s thrusts. “C’mon, Tooru, I’m almost there, I’m so close-“

“Shit!” Oikawa exclaimed his eyes rolling back a little as he came, pounding into Iwaizumi with as much strength as he could muster, filling him with a new warmth.

Iwaizumi felt Oikawa bite into his neck and then his stomach gave a familiar lurch, and he was coming. He gripped tightly to Oikawa’s hair as he bit back his moan, his hips grinding furiously against Oikawa’s, and he came up both their chests.

As the energy left their bodies, Oikawa collapsed on top of Iwaizumi, smothering him with long limbs.

“Oi, get off,” Hajime said as he whacked him weakly.

Oikawa groaned. “Can’t move.”

“You’re going soft in me, it’s weird.”

“Right, I’m moving!” he shrieked, pushing off him and slowly pulling out, both of them cringing at the feeling. Oikawa looked down as he pulled out, surprised by the cum that gushed out afterwards. He gave Iwaizumi a half quirked grin. “Whoops?”

“If you don’t clean that off me right now, I’ll make you eat it,” he threatened with a glare.

“Oh God,” Oikawa said as he wrinkled his nose, “be more sexy, Hajime. Really.”

“You’re not the one covered in cold cum!”

“Fair enough.”

Oikawa quickly wiped him down, and dabbed at their chests, cleaning up as much of the mess as he could. He flopped down next to Hajime and flung an arm over him, forcibly pulling him into a cuddle. Predictably, he struggled, but settled down into Oikawa’s chest.

“How was it for you?” Tooru asked almost timidly, brushing his fingers through Hajime’s messy hair, pressing a kiss to the tip of his ear.

Hajime squirmed until they were facing, and brushed their lips together. “Perfect.”

His lips split into a blinding smile. “Really?”

Hajime simply looked at him, once again knocked on his ass at how this beautiful porcelain prince was actually his. Even after sex, when his pale skin was dusted with red and sweat, and his hair was mussed from Iwaizumi’s grip, he was still easily the most beautiful thing Iwaizumi had ever seen, and for a second he wished they were joined again, just so he could keep Oikawa a part of him forever.

“Yeah, really,” he said quietly with a small smile.

“Good,” Oikawa said as he settled down, nestling next to Iwaizumi and flinging a leg over him, effectively cocooning him like a giant caterpillar. “I’m tired, we should sleep.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I would, if you let go of me.”

“Never.”

He sighed, but he hadn’t really expected any other answer. Truthfully, he liked it when Oikawa clung to him. The conversation waned, and they simply held each other, sleep tugging at their eyelids. The music had begun to fade, or maybe Iwaizumi was too tired to hear it, but either way he didn’t care; he was in a soft warm bed, wrapped in the arms of his love, and with a thrum of pleasure coasting through his body.

“Hey, Hajime?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Hajime closed his eyes, letting his lips pull up into a smile. He turned his head towards Oikawa’s face, and opened his eyes just a slither, staring at him through his long straight lashes. “I love you, too.”

Oikawa grinned, then kissed Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Hajime said softly, and let sleep finally claim him.


	18. chapter 18

It was when Iwaizumi was talking with Oikawa, Hanamaki and Matsukawa the next day that his world crashed around him. He was standing with Oikawa in the training field, flanked with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The other three were dressed in training gear, and Iwaizumi was holding a large scarred wooden shield that bore the slash marks of Oikawa’s sword. They had stopped for a breather, Iwaizumi puffing out a breath.

“Iwaizumi, what’s that on your neck?” Matsukawa leered.

Oikawa grinned, and Iwaizumi self consciously tugged at the neckerchief he borrowed from Suga, who had handed it over with wide eyes. “Nothing! Just a gift from Suga.”

“Oh, who’s Suga? Is that your lady?” Makki asked and wriggled his eyebrows.

Oikawa snorted. “No, he’s a boy in the kitchens!”

“Yeah, it’s just a gift,” he defended, “nice friends actually do that for one another.”

“Oh, defensive,” Issei drawled, reaching out to paw at the scarf, “come on then, let’s have a look.”

“No!” Iwaizumi jumped back in panic. “Leave it!”

“What are you hiding?” Matsukawa looked absolutely delighted.

As Hajime spluttered, Makki slipped a dextrous finger under the material and yanked it down, effectively choking him as well as exposing the two large hickies on his sun kissed skin, dark and purple. Hajime immediately slapped a hand over them with an indignant yell, but it was too late.

Matsukawa’s thick brows shot up and he whistled, slinging an arm around Hanamaki, the two of them grinning far too wide. “My my, Iwaizumi, looks like someone’s been having a good time.”

“A very good time,” Makki added.

“Shut up.”

Oikawa snickered, his eyes flashing in amusement. “Oh, go on Iwa-chan, what was she like?”

“Horrible.” He stated, looking the prince right in the eye.

Matsukawa clicked his tongue. “A bad lay?”

“The absolutely worst,” Hajime said, his lips quirking when Oikawa’s mouth popped open.

“Now now, Iwa-chan,” he said sweetly, recovering quickly, “that can’t be true. Just look at these marks on your neck, surely it was at least a little fun.”

“Who was it anyway?” Makki asked.

“Nobody,” he said offhandedly, staring at the ground.

“Why don’t you want to tell us?” Issei questioned thoughtfully, “are you worried we’re going to make fun of you?”

“We’d only do that if she was ugly!” laughed Makki, but at Iwaizumi’s glare he apologised. “Alright alright, sorry. You can tell us you know, we won’t say anything.”

Iwaizumi sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He was tired, and his back ached something fierce, and his face seemed to heat up with embarrassment more every second. “It’s nothing. I’m just…keeping it hidden right now. Don’t want to push it too far.”

Oikawa lung an arm around his neck and laid his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, his lips dangerously close to the marks they’d left there. “It’s okay, you’ll find a girl who’s proud to show you off one day, Iwa-chan.”

That stung a little more than he assumed Oikawa had meant, and he flinched. He shrugged the prince off. “Move, idiot.”

Oikawa stood straight next to him with an easy smile, bit frowned when he saw one of the attendants running towards them, a satchel of mail strapped across his body. “Huh, I guess someone has some letters.”

The man reached them, and after quickly bowing to Oikawa, pulled a scroll out, tied with a faded piece of string. “My Lord, I am sorry to interrupt, but I have mail for Iwaizumi.”

“Me?” Hajime said, eyes widening. He reached out and took the scroll, bowing as the man retreated back to the castle. He tugged on the string, watching at the thin paper unfolded in his hands, covered in a messy scrawl. “I don’t get mail.”

“Who’s it from?” Issei asked.

Iwaizumi’s eyes roamed over the scratchy symbols, littered with mistakes and written shakily, from an unsure hand. His heart swelled. “My mother.”

“That’s nice! How is she? I haven’t heard from her in a while,” said Oikawa with a light tone, tapping his chin.

But as he read on, Iwaizumi’s blood had ran cold, and he faced Oikawa, eyes wide in panic. “She needs help, Oikawa.”

“What?”

He thrusted the letter at him. “She’s in trouble! Her village has been ransacked and taken over by a group of nomads, she-she’s terrified, they’re taking over everything!”

“Give me that,” Oikawa said seriously, plucking the scroll from Iwaizumi’s hands. He had a bit of trouble reading it, but he could spot the most important words, and his expression darkened. “We have to help her.”

Issei looked troubled. “Oikawa, could you get an audience with the King? If he authorises it, then he can send out a group of knights to fight these guys.”

Iwaizumi turned to the prince with pleading eyes, his hands trembling. “Please, I- I have to help her. She’s my mother.”

Oikawa’s hand shifted, as if to reach for him, but then it fell to the side. He nodded. “Of course. Come, we’ll go now. There is no time to waste.”

Iwaizumi sank to one knee, his head bowed. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Oikawa combed a hand through his hair, settling on his shoulder. He squeezed once. Iwaizumi stood, and the four of them raced to the main hall, where they knew the King would be sitting. The guards opened the heavy oak doors for them as they passed, and as they entered the grand room, cleared from any remnants of the party but still just as wondrous, Oikawa bowed at the sight of his father. The old man was resting on his throne, face stern, and turned towards the commotion, waving away his attendings.

“Tooru,” he said simply.

“Father, I am sorry to interrupt, but I must call upon you,” he said seriously, rising. In his hand he held the scroll, and he walked to his father handing it over. “Iwaizumi-san- mother’s old handmaiden- her village is being pillaged. She has written to her son, asking for help.”

The King read over the scroll, and silently, he handed it back to Oikawa. His lips were thin. “And your wish of me?”

“To send a group of knights,” he said instantly, voice firm. “There is nobody to stand up for them, we must help them.”

“You,” he said, nodding at Iwaizumi, “you are her boy, yes?”

Iwaizumi stepped forward, immediately dropping into a bow. “Yes, my Lord.”

The King sighed.”I am afraid I cannot help.”

Oikawa spluttered. “Why ever not?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Because we are on the brink of war, you foolish child; the waters have been troubled between the Shiratorizawa kingdom and us for a while now. War is expected any week, I have to prioritize, Tooru. I can not afford to send any soldiers away, not for something like this.”

Iwaizumi sucked in a breath. “Please, my Lord, you cannot let them suffer, they need protection!”

The King stood, face hardening. “I have already said that I won’t do it. I will not jeopardise the Kingdom’s safety for the sake of some bandits.”

He sobbed. “Please, you need to-“

The King slapped Iwaizumi across the face, hard. He fell to the ground with a thud, a slice along his cheek from where the rings adorning the King’s fingers had scraped across his skin.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelped, immediately dropping to his knees by the injured boy.

“I do not need to do anything,” he stated with a haughty voice, “and you will learn your place.”

Iwaizumi touched his cheek, slightly marvelling at the blood, and shakily swiped at his nose, still breathing heavily. He was aware of Oikawa’s hands on him, and the deep sting that burned at his face, but he could do nothing but stare at the King, caught in his glare.

Iwaizumi pushed himself to his feet, his deep green eyes narrowed and clenching his jaw. He bowed once, his voice carefully flat. “Of course. Forgive me.”

Then, he turned and walked out the room, pushing the thick doors, uncaring of the loud slam they left in his departure. He could hear the remnants of Oikawa’s voice as he talked with his father, no doubt arguing Iwaizumi’s case, and he felt a brief touch of fondness amidst the anger.

He didn’t walk back to Oikawa’s room; rather he made his way to the servants’ quarters, to a room he hadn’t spent much time in in the past weeks. He sat on his small futon, wincing at the dust that rose, and lay his head in his hands, trying to think what to do.

He couldn’t just leave her, not when she needed him, but he couldn’t just sit around waiting for Oikawa to change the King’s mind. No- something had to be done about it, and it couldn’t wait. Hajime picked up a small burlap sack that he had kept in his possession ever since he moved to the castle, and quickly stuffed it with whatever clothes were lying around. He picked up his small worn canteen and shook it, deciding that he would fill it up in the kitchens later, and see if Suga could spare him a roll and some cheese for the journey.

Then, he began to think- just what was he going to do? Steal a horse from the stables? Take a sword? If he did, he could kiss his career, and possibly his life, at Seijoh goodbye. That’s assuming he even lived through the ordeal to come back.

Hajime groaned and tugged at his hair, trying to think. He could hitchhike his way there, but it could take a little longer than he would like. Still, it would offer him an inconspicuous way to leave the city, and the safety of traveling in numbers.

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” a voice called softly as Oikawa stepped into the room, looking tired.

“Sorry, I just needed some time to think,” he murmured, shifting on the bed so that Oikawa could sit next to him, the mattress sinking under the extra weight.

“How’s your cheek?” Oikawa’s fingers drifted across the skin delicately.

Iwaizumi’s attention was brought back to the pain on his cheek. “I’d actually forgotten about it until now. It’s sore but I’ll be fine.”

Oikawa’s expression looked stormy. “I can’t believe he hit you…I wanted to scream at him, right there in front of everyone.”

“I spoke out of line, it’s to be expected.” Hajime shrugged.

“Just because I expect it doesn’t mean I like it,” he quipped lightly, “Nobody likes to see their beloved hurt.”

Iwaizumi huffed and gave a small smile. “I’m fine, really. What did your father say?”

“He still refuses to send someone. Says that the risk of war staring is too great,” Oikawa uttered, subdued, “I’m so sorry.”

Hajime sighed. “Don’t be, I expected it. But I won’t let that stop me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to Miyagi to help my mother,” Hajime said as if it were obvious, “I’m going to head out at dawn tomorrow. Do you think you can survive without me for a few days?”

“What…how are you getting there?” the brunette asked, mouth forming over questions as they bubbled in his mind.

“I’ll hitchhike. It’s the easiest way to get out without drawing attention to myself.”

“Iwa-chan, that’s dangerous!” Oikawa hissed, “you don’t know what type of people they could be!”

“Well I have to take the risk, Oikawa! My mothers out there, and she needs me. I won’t stay here, not when I could already be too late.”

“You’re not too late,” he said firmly, and then rubbed at his eyes, looking worn. “Have you thought this through? Do you have food? Water? Clothes? Bedding for when you make camp? Do you have any weapons? Or even a plan of attack?”

Iwaizumi clenched his jaw. “No, obviously I don’t have all of those things, but that doesn’t matter, because I’m still going.”

“Iwa-chan, you’ll get killed! You barely know how to fight, damnit,” Oikawa said, slamming his hand against the bed. “Stop for a minute and think, will you?”

“There’s no time!” he yelled back. “I don’t care about the risks, I’m going there and I’m going to save that village.”

“You can’t defeat them on your own,” he said quietly.

“I’ll have to.”

Oikawa hung his head, already looking like he was regretting the thoughts in his head. “You’re really not going to give up on this, are you?”

Iwaizumi shook his head no.

“Then I guess I’ll have to come with you.”

Iwaizumi started, his mouth slacking slightly. “You can’t! If the King finds out you’ve left without permission he’ll kill you!”

Oikawa looked at him. “I know that.”

“Tooru, your father is right- if you’re there something awful could happen to you! I can’t risk that, I can’t jeopardise your Kingdom or your place on the throne. Not for this.”

Tooru leaned forward and kissed him, his hand slinking around Hajime’s neck. He brushed his thumb across Hajime’s cheekbone and pulled back with a gentle smile. “I know that, but I’ve already told you that those mean nothing to me without you. If you died out there, I’d never forgive myself.”

Hajime felt his chest swell with emotion, and he wished he was good with words the way Tooru was. Instead, he pressed his lips together tightly, and flung his arms round the other, hugging him fiercely. “Thank you.”

“As if I’d ever let you do something stupid without me,” the prince joked lightheartedly, running a hand down Iwaizumi’s back. “What’s the plan?”

“I don’t even know yet,” he admitted, “It’s too dangerous to hitchhike especially if we have you.”

“I can be in disguise!” Oikawa argued.

“Oikawa,” Hajime stated with a stare, “it doesn’t matter if you’re in silk, or rags- you will always look like a prince. We can’t disguise your face.”

Oikawa looked at him for a few seconds, and then squealed, launching himself onto Iwaizumi with such force that the bed gave a dangerous wobble. “Iwa-chan! You can’t say such nice things out of the blue! I’m not ready for it!”

“Eh? Get off me, you lump! I didn’t say anything nice!” Hajime pushed the brunette off him, fending himself from Oikawa’s wandering hands and pouted lips. “Jeez, you’re annoying.”

“Doesn’t matter, Iwa-chan thinks I’m pretty,” Oikawa said with a wide smile, “and I know you mean it, because we’re not having sex right now!”

“Will you- keep your voice down!” he hissed, batting Oikawa on the arm. “Anyone could hear.”

Oikawa laughed, and then looked more solemn. “So what is the plan then?”

“At dawn, I’ll go out and feed the horses. Daichi will be out then, so I’ll explain to him, and then we can take a horse and leave the citadel.”

“You’ll need supplies.”

“I’ll ask Suga for my breakfast tied up in some cloth. I’ll ask him for yours as well,” he said.

Tooru hummed. “What about weaponry?”

Hajime bit his lip. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to do with that. I was going to take the sword that Irihata gives me when we practice.”

“That old thing?” The prince recoiled. “Iwa-chan, that thing is so dull it couldn’t even slice a blade of grass. We can bring some of the ones I was given for my birthday- they’ve not yet been placed in the armoury, so they can’t be reported missing.”

Iwaizumi smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you. For everything, really.”

“We’re in it together, right?” Oikawa said, lifting his fist up.

Iwaizumi bumped it with his own. “Hell yeah.”

* * *  
Oikawa arrived ten minutes after they had agreed to meet. Iwaizumi frowned, standing outside the stables, when he spotted him quickly jogging towards the stables, draped in a thick cloak and leather gloves and boots.

“Iwa-chan!” he said, breathlessly, “I’m here!”

“You’re late.” He rolled his eyes, pushing open the stable door and smiling when the horses began to stir.

“I had to make sure I had everything! I’m carrying so much crap, here-“ he flung a bag of essentials to Iwaizumi, who caught it with a huff, and added it onto his back next to his own bag,”-take this. I can’t carry the swords as well as that.”

“Jeez, what did you pack?”

“The essentials!”

“Heavy,” Hajime complained, adjusting it. Then, he walked over to Oikawa’s horse and smiled, reaching out a hand to run down the length of her face. “Hey, girl.”

Oikawa hummed. “She likes you a lot.”

“That’s because I’m the lightest to carry,” Hajime muttered, lips quirking at the audible gasp.

“I _know _you didn’t just call me fat.”__

__“Never, my Lord,” Iwaizumi said flatly, chuckling as Oikawa leaned against the post and pouted._ _

__Then, the door creaked open, and Daichi walked in, yawning loudly. He rubbed at his eyes and blinked, noticing the two figures. “Iwaizumi!”_ _

__“Hey, Daichi.”_ _

__“Dai-chan, we have a favour to ask!” Oikawa piqued up._ _

__Daichi suddenly noticed the presence of the prince and dropped to his knees. “Forgive me, my Lord, I hadn’t noticed you there. I would be delighted to offer my services, but if I maybe so bold as to inquire- what do you need?”_ _

__“Iwa-chan and I are escaping for a day or two, and we’re going to be taking my horse out,” he said rubbing the nose of the calm animal, “so should you be questioned about my whereabouts, you are to say you have no idea. Do you understand?”_ _

__“Perfectly, sire,” Daichi said, dusting dirt off his knees, “however, would it be rude of me to ask where you are going?”_ _

__“Not at all,” the prince smiled, “We’re heading to Miyagi, but keep it a secret.”_ _

__“The prince is going with you?” Daichi hissed, turning to Iwaizumi. “Iwaizumi, he can’t go! If you go, there’s no repercussions, but if Prince Oikawa goes it could be disastrous should anything happen!”_ _

__“Tsk, don’t you think I know that?” Iwaizumi scowled, crossing his arms as he huffed at the older boy._ _

__“Dai-chan, as much as I appreciate your concern,” Oikawa said, a tad scathingly as he smiled, "I know exactly what risks I am taking. Not to mention, I’m much better than Iwa-chan in combat, so really, I’m going to make sure he stays alive.”_ _

__Daichi looked chagrined and baffled, and he wrung his hands. “I know that, but I can’t figure out why you would risk so much just for Iwaizumi, sire. I know he is your friend- he is mine, also- but this seems like a dangerous situation to jump into so willingly.”_ _

__Iwaizumi nodded. “I said the same. If anything happens to him there’ll be hell to pay. It’s not my fault he’s so damn stubborn.”_ _

__Oikawa clapped his hands once, signalling both their attention. His smile was sweet, but strained. "Enough, my decision is final and there will be no more on it."_ _

__"Yes, sire," the servants said in unison._ _

__"Hajime, I have your food," a light voice whispered, and a silver head of hair sneaked into the barn. Suga smiled, his wide almond eyes glinting as he held out two small sacks. "One is yours, and one is the King’s, I’ve given you both food for a few days, just in case.”_ _

__“Thanks, Suga,” Iwaizumi said, taking the bags._ _

__“You knew the prince was going, too?” Daichi gaped, facing his companion. “Koushi, you know how dangerous this is! Why are you encouraging them?”_ _

__The blonde waved his hand as if it were obvious. “Because I know for a fact that wherever Iwaizumi goes, the prince will follow, and vice versa. I doubt two servants telling him not too would change his mind.”_ _

__Oikawa grinned. “Quite right, Suga-chan. Now then, are we ready?”_ _

__“Hold up,” a lazy voice drawled, “you were really going to leave without us?”_ _

__Matsukawa poked his head into the barn, followed by Hanamaki’s tuft of pink._ _

__Iwaizumi blinked. “You guys are coming, too?”_ _

__“Of course! We wouldn’t leave you to do this alone,” Hanamaki said._ _

__“Plus Oikawa needs all the help he can get,” Matsukawa added solemnly._ _

__Iwaizumi nodded in agreement, and Oikawa scoffed. “It’s a wonder I don’t have you all exiled by now.”_ _

__Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what are you going to do about horses?”_ _

__“All the knights have their own, so we can just take ours.”_ _

__Daichi shook his head. “If three horses go missing it’ll be more noticeable, you’d be better just taking one of yours and sharing.”_ _

__“We’ll take mine, Hanamaki can hold onto me,” Matsukawa smirked, already walking towards his horse._ _

__“How thoughtful,” the pink haired boy murmured, but it was not without affection._ _

__Suga reached into his apron and passed over an apple, a small block of cheese, and some cooked rice, held in a small woven bag. “It’s not much, but I had a feeling something like this would happen, so there’s a little extra.”_ _

__“Suga-chan, you truly are delightful,” the prince said, taking the items gingerly. “When I’m King you’re most certainly getting a raise.”_ _

__The silver haired boy bowed with a gentle laugh. “Thank you, sire. You should be on your way now; soon the palace staff will awaken and begin their duties, you will need to be gone by then.”_ _

__“Suga’s right,” Iwaizumi said, and turned to Chiyo, the horse, patting her softly. “You ready, girl?”_ _

__“I swear he’s nicer to her than to me.” Oikawa mumbled._ _

__“That’s because she smells better, sire,” Hanamaki quipped, pulling himself up onto Matsukawa’s horse, looping his arms around the other’s waist._ _

__“And she has the most beautiful eyes,” added Matsukawa with fake serenity._ _

__“I hate you all.” Oikawa pulled himself up onto his horse, and then, with a blinding smile, offered his hand to Iwaizumi. “Up you come, Iwa-chan.”_ _

__Face dangerously red, Iwaizumi slapped Oikawa’s hand away and hoisted himself up, settling behind the prince._ _

__“Now now, Iwa-chan, you’ll fall off if you don’t hold on,” he chastised teasingly, “tightly, mind you.”_ _

__The two knights snickered, and Iwaizumi swore he felt steam coming out of his ears. He looped his arm around Oikawa’s waist, and scowled. “I’m going to kill you for this.”_ _

__“Oh hush, you grump,” he replied airily, and then turned to the others. “Right, time to go. We have a village to save.”_ _

__And with that, they gently nudged their horses, and quietly trotted through the town, careful not to wake anyone. It was very early morning, just leaving the cusp of night, and the only sound was gentle cicadas, hiding in the blades of grass at their feet. The rhythm was slow and rocking, and it soothed the aching tiredness of Hajime’s bones, as he had not slept a wink. Oikawa noticed this and smiled, his voice low enough for Just Hajime to hear._ _

__“It’s okay, you can sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”_ _

__Iwaizumi blinked, ready to assure the prince that it was not needed, but his eyelids were heavy, and so he agreed with a small nod. “Thankyou. For everything.”_ _

__“Do not worry about it,” the brunette hushed, “I would do anything for you.”_ _

__The words were the last night Hajime heard as his consciousness drifted, his head slotted against the Prince’s back, sleep overcoming him finally._ _


	19. chapter 19

Miyagi was a small, quiet village: it’s residents were small in number, but packed tightly together, in poorly built, small wooden huts. The marketplace held the most activity, with street vendors selling fruits, grains and even livestock, their babbling the main source of noise, despite the fact there were only a few of them trading. The children sat in the grass and played with the mud and the insects, and the air carried the smell of a farm.

Iwaizumi directed them through the town to his mother’s house- she had left directions in her letter, and he was anxious to see her. They had been travelling a whole day, stopping briefly on the way to set up camp, eat, and let the horses rest, but then they were back on the move, the servant awake, this time.

“It’s…quaint!” Oikawa said with false cheer, wrinkling his nose at the undeniable smell of manure.

“It smells like shit,” Hanamaki coughed, ignoring the prince’s glare.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I know it’s not the best, but this is home for a lot of people. Not everyone can come from royalty, you know.”

Looking rather embarrassed, Hanamaki cleared his throat. “Sorry, Iwaizumi, I meant no offence.”

“None taken,” he assured, “just…don’t have any expectations, okay? The people of this village cannot offer a lot. Oikawa, go down this road here, my mother’s hut should be at the end.”

Oikawa nudged the horse into a trot, and they made their way down the path, eyes squinting against the early morning light. Then, in the distance, Oikawa could see the outline of a small brown building, and a woman outside, holding a basket of clothes. He turned to Iwaizumi. “I think that’s her.”

Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened when he saw the woman. Despite being far away, he could tell from her stance, and the long black hair-now streaked with silver- pulled to the nape of her neck, that it was his mother. He kicked his heel to the horse’s thigh, and it began to run.

“Jeez, Iwa-chan, give me some warning!” Oikawa said, fumbling with the reins as the animal sped up.

He righted himself and leaned forward, pulling only when they were approaching, slowing the horse down to a trot. Dust gathered around their feet, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa pulled up beside them.

Iwaizumi dismounted, dropping the bags at his feet as he ran towards the woman, who had turned around at the sound of the horses’ hooves. “Mother!”

“Hajime? Oh- Hajime!” she called, dropping her basket to embrace her son. He picked her up and spun her, crushing her tightly to his chest. “I’m so glad you came.”

“How could I not? I would never leave you when you needed help,” Iwaizumi replied, pulling back to look over her. Other than looking tired and worn, he could not see any damage to her, and relaxed. “Are you okay? What’s been going on?”

Oikawa dismounted, and walked up to them with a charming smile. “Iwaizumi-san, it is so wonderful to see you again!”

“My Lord,” she said, bowing quickly, “thank you for coming. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“You do not need to thank me,” Oikawa said gently, “however, I feel it would be best if we discussed this inside. Do you have a stable?”

“I do not, but my neighbour has a barn for his mule and his chickens. He will not mind if you tie your horses up there,” she said, pointing towards a wooden building not much bigger than her hut. “Please, come join me when you are ready, I will prepare some tea.”

The boys tied their horses up, and picked up all the bags, Iwaizumi carrying most of it. He led the way, and pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak it gave. The hut was less of a house and more just one main room, with a few sacks of wheat in one corner, a few ceramic pots and cups, and a small open fire, crackling. There was a beaten up table in the centre of the room, with threadbare cushions around it. Hitoka kneeled at it, taking the teapot from the fire to pour four cups, the steam rising into the air. They all kneeled beside her, albeit uncomfortably close together, and thanked her.

“The tea is wonderful, Iwaizumi-san,” Matsukawa murmured, sipping from the cup. “Thank you.”

She waved a hand, and turned to her son, reaching across to grip his hand. “Tell me, did you have a safe journey?”

“We did,” he assured her, “I got here as fast as I could.”

“I am so glad,” she said, lips trembling, “when will the rest be arriving?”

Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably. “Mama, I am sorry, but it is only us.”

“What? How can it only be you? Surely the King knows that the pillagers are plenty in number.”

“I got an audience with the King, but he…” Iwaizumi struggled for the words, “…he couldn’t help, Mama. Seijoh is on the brink of war with Shiratorizawa, and the King said he cannot spare any soldiers for this. So I decided to come on my own, and then prince Oikawa and the knights came with me, to help you.”

“You must return home immediately,” Hitoka gasped, gripping Iwaizumi’s hands. “Hajime, it is not safe! The King has said no, if anything were to happen to the prince-“

“Iwaizumi-san, with all due respect, I made this decision for myself,” Tooru stated firmly. “Hajime did not want me to come, but I insisted- my father may be cruel, but I am not. I know that my mother would not wish any harm upon you or her subjects, and I wish to honour her in all my choices from now on. It is my duty as future King to let these people know that I will always do my best to help them.”

Hitoka dropped to a bow, her nose touching the floor. “Thankyou, my Lord, for your graciousness. I am sorry if I speak out of line, I only wish for you and Hajime to stay safe. You boys are all I have left.”

“We’re not going anywhere mama,” Hajime soothed, lifting her from her bow. “However, I think we are all very tired. We should retire for the night, and tomorrow, we will devise a plan of attack.”

Hitoka nodded, and pushed herself to her feet, brushing dust off her kimono. She bent down and fluffed the two sacks of wheat, and turned to the knights. “I hope this will suffice for the night. I will bring you a blanket.”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki both smiled. “It’s fine, thankyou.”

“Prince Oikawa, you may sleep here,” she said, gesturing to the futon. It was small, just big enough for one person, with a flat pillow, and a thin quilt. It was small for Oikawa’s lanky frame, but he smiled graciously anyway.

“Thankyou, Iwaizumi-san. You are most hospitable,” he assured, setting down on the futon, hand skimming over the mattress.

“Hajime…” she said, looking around, trying to figure out where she would place him.

Iwaizumi just sat down, and waved his hand. “It’s fine, Mother, I can use my bag as a pillow. I should have a kimono I can use for a quilt if the night gets cold.”

Hitoka visibly relaxed, and then Tooru’s voice piped up, curious. “Iwaizumi-san, where will you sleep?”

“I’ll sleep in the barn tonight,” she explained, “The hay makes for a fine pillow, and it is not cold with the animals. Please, do not worry yourself over anything, my Lord. I shall wake you all in the morning for breakfast.”

“Goodnight, Mother.”

“Yes, goodnight, Iwaizumi-san!” Matsukawa said, followed by Hanamaki and Oikawa nodding.

“Goodnight,” she said sweetly, before sliding the door shut, leaving the men on their own.

Hajime scratched his neck. “I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable guys, I know it’s not the most luxurious settings…”

“You’re telling me,” Hanamaki laughed, punching the wheat bag, “this thing is solid!”

“You should feel lucky, you know,” Iwaizumi said with the slightest of smiles, settling down on the floor, “we didn’t have wheat bags when I was younger. After my dad became ill, we had no money, so the futon went to him, and my mother and I would sleep on the floor.”

“Wasn’t it uncomfortable to do that every night?” Issei questioned, brow furrowed.

“Well yeah, but what can you do? My father needed the bed, and we couldn’t afford food let alone extra futons or blankets.” Iwaizumi finished with a yawn, pulling one of their sacks closer to him to rest his head on. It was a little lumpy, but he didn’t mind. “The day we moved into the palace was awesome, I had my own bed, and the cooks would have food for us, and I got to ride the horses, too. It was much better than our life here.”

“What was your father like, Iwa?” Hanamaki asked curiously, “if you don’t mind telling, that is.”

“It’s hard to remember, since I was young when he died, but he was a strict man,” Iwaizumi recalled, “a blacksmith, actually. He would work all day, so I’d only see him when he came home at night, but I remember for ages, I would ask him to fix my net, but he never had time. Seems stupid that the only thing I really talked to him for was to fix a dumb net.”

“A net? For fishing?”

“No, bug hunting. I got really good at catching them with my hands, actually,” Hajime chuckled, “I used to spend my childhood frightening Oikawa with all the bugs I had caught in the garden- the screams that came out his mouth-“

“Iwa-chan, shut up! You would try to throw worms at me!” The prince huffed petulantly. “It wasn’t even funny.”

“Was for me.”

The boys all shared a chuckle, and then Hajime rubbed at his eyes, and the noise settled into silence. There was a heavy weight in the air, the knowledge that now there was no laughter, they were reminded of the reason they were here: to fight.

Oikawa’s voice was soft in the darkness. “Goodnight, guys.”

They murmured their replies, just barely heard above the cicadas, and the silence washed over them. The hot air was like a blanket, stirring the stray threads of the tatami mat as it brushed over Iwaizumi’s body, like a gentle caress. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his mind, but he couldn’t help but think; what was going to happen? Would they be able to help? Would everyone be safe? Would Oikawa be safe?

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there before he felt Oikawa’s tender grip around his hand, gently tugging him up. Quietly, Iwaizumi shifted and rose, letting Oikawa pull him over, down onto the smallest slither of the futon. He opened his mouth to protest, but Oikawa pressed a thumb against his lips.  
“Lay with me,” he whispered quietly, “I cannot sleep without you at my side.”

At a loss for words, and perhaps too proud to admit that he felt the same, Iwaizumi nodded and lay down, Oikawa’s body half splayed over him as they lay, cramped together. It was a lot warmer, and definitely not that comfortable, but finally, Iwaizumi’s mind was at ease.  
He closed his eyes, fingers intertwined with Oikawa’s, and waited for sleep.

After an early rising (Iwaizumi automatically awakening at the crack of dawn) and a small but pleasing breakfast of rice and miso soup, Iwaizumi crossed his arms.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Do you know when the bandits will be here next, Iwaizumi-san?” Oikawa asked politely.

“Tonight,” she said, gnawing her lip, “they come every week.”

“What do they take?” enquired Matsukawa.

“Money, mostly,” she sighed, “sometimes food.”

“Wait,” Oikawa interjected, “this group has been taking your money? How do you pay your taxes?”

Hitoka looked embarrassed. “We can’t, sire. Miyagi is small enough that the Kingdom does not suffer the loss of our contribution, but we have all wracked up horrible debt. With no money, there is very little trade, and no means of stabilising our losses.”

“Well, I’m sure the King will be much more inclined to investigate matters like these once he knows the taxes can’t be paid,” Oikawa said, seeming a little triumphant. “I’ll do my best to make sure no consequences come to you from this, Iwaizumi-san; it was the Kingdom that has failed you, not the other way around.”

She reached across and, in a moment of motherly instincts, squeezed the prince’s hand hard. “Thank you, for everything.”

Oikawa smiled at her kindly. “You need not thank me, Iwaizumi-san. I would never let any harm come upon you. Please, rest now, and we will devise a plan for the attack. We’ll keep you all safe.”

Hitoka bowed and retreated, her hand smoothing across Hajime’s shoulders as she left the men to their business. Once she was gone, Oikawa cleared his throat, and reached for his bag. He pulled out a long blank scroll and rolled it across the table. 

“Right,” he began, plucking a stick of charcoal out, “let’s think about this. The attacks are weekly, which makes it clear that it’s not nomads coming back- it’s people from a neighbouring town. They’re able to travel quietly through the forest to remain unseen, so it would have to be towns south or south-east of here; the forest is thickest in those areas and almost acts as a bridge between the towns, as far as I’m aware.”

“That would mean that they’re coming from Osaki or Shikama, right?” Mattsun questioned. 

Oikawa nodded, marking two large X’s on the scroll. “That would be my guess.”

“They’re also in the Miyagi prefecture, why would the Kingdom’s own people attack others like this?”

“They’re either outcasts who are taking refuge in the outskirts of the town, or perhaps they’re so used to being ignored under my father’s rein that they’ve gone rogue,” Oikawa murmured. “Either way, all that matters is that we stop them. Hopefully once they’re captured we can return some of the stolen goods and eventually introduce trade and economy back. I’m sure we can write off the debt.”

“How do we stop them?” Hajime asked. 

Oikawa pointed a slender finger at the map, tapping it. “We’ll station ourselves here; normally I’d split us to cover the territory, but we’re most likely outnumbered and I don’t want to risk anything. From what Iwaizumi-san says, they’re fairly confident in coming here, so I don't think they’ll assume any attacks will happen, so there’s not much reason to change their usual route.”

“Plus,” Matsukawa added,” we can catch up to them on horseback if need be. I’m sure we can rally some of the townspeople together if we want extra back up.”

Oikawa shook his head no. “I’d rather not involve them any further- this town is small, and mostly populated by elders. They’ve already risked so much, let’s not make them risk any more. Besides, I believe the four of us will do fine! Where’s your faith, Mattsun?”

“Of course, my Lord,” Matsukawa chuckled. There was still some tension in his face, hiding in the crease of his brow and tightness of his lip, but he would never refute Oikawa on battle tactics.

“So, what do we do until then?” Iwaizumi asked?

“We train.”


	20. chapter 20

Iwaizumi found himself very fond of the sword in his hand; it was new, and shiny, it’s heavy weight sitting solid in his palm, making his muscles strain ever so slightly. It felt right to him, to have a sword like this in his grip, and excitement thrummed in his veins at the chance to use it. 

It was nightfall, and the boys waited at the curb of the forest in anticipation. Iwaizumi could feel his heart beat in his chest, but he found that he was strangely calm- he had no doubt that this town would be safe tonight. Oikawa’s presence next to him was both comforting and grounding, and as he cast a look at the brunette, delicate moonlit shadows falling across his face, he saw a face he hadn’t seen before; it was serious, his normally wide eyes narrowed in focus, nostrils flared and lips taught as he waited for any signs of their visitors. 

“Everyone, be careful tonight,” he murmured softly, voice blending with the gentle chorus of cicadas, “and have each other’s backs. We must work as a team, I need every one of you to pull this off.”

Makki’s lips quirked, but his voice was solemn. “We’re right behind you, always.”

Oikawa turned his head and smiled, gentle and genuine. “I know. You’re good men.”

The sound of horses’ hooves stopped them, and Oikawa dropped his smile, his guard up immediately. He signaled with his hand for them to move out and take their positions.

Iwaizumi slid away, his hands running across the bark of a large gnarled tree. Quickly, with the ease of someone who’d done it many times before, he grabbed a branch and hoisted himself up, holding his sword tightly as he looked down at the rest of them, spread out in a diamond formation, swords at the ready.   
Oikawa placed his ear to the ground and tightened his lips, nodding as he raised a slender finger to point in front of them, indicating the direction the bandits were travelling in. Iwaizumi knew they’d be here in a matter of seconds, now hearing the ricket of a wagon approaching. When they finally broke through the forest and into their territory, Oikawa moved so quickly that had he not been looking, Iwaizumi would have missed it. 

The brunette had flung his sword, lodging it right in the front wheel of the wagon, and the four men yelled as it tipped and swayed, crashing to the ground and pulling their horses down with it. 

“Now!” Oikawa yelled, running forward, yanking his sword from the wood.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki appeared from the shadows, swords bared, and swung at the bandits, who had now realised what had happened. The sound of clashing swords filled the forest as they fought, and without hesitation, Iwaizumi flung himself into action. He dropped from the tree, landing behind one of the bandits, and swiped, slicing along the back of the man’s legs. He dropped down with an outrageous yell, and Iwaizumi quickly moved on to help the others. Oikawa was holding his own, being incredibly light on his feet, dodging the hits aimed at him. 

“It’s not very nice to rob elders,” he said lightly, giving a gritted smile as he fought. “You should know that.” Oikawa didn’t even give the man time to reply before wiping his foot out and hooking it round the other’s ankle and pulling, sending him crashing to the ground. “This kind of behaviour will not stand in the Kingdom of Seijoh.”

“The Kingdom has done nothing but take,” the man spat, pulling himself up, “and I will take back what is due.”

Oikawa’s sword was against the man’s neck instantly. “The possessions of hard working people do not belong to the hands of a thief.”

“And who are you, to fight for the people?” He growled, pressing forward, seemingly uncaring that the blade was pressing into his neck.

“I am Prince Oikawa Tooru, son of the King, and heir to the throne of Seijoh,” Tooru said with clarity and pride, “and I will always fight for my people.”

“You have never fought for me,” the man snapped, and roared as he brought his own sword up, and their fighting resumed again.

Iwaizumi was now helping Hanamaki, the two of them circling one of the men. He was short but wide, with a bulbous face and wiry hair, his eyes beady as they darted left and right. He was clenching his sword tightly, an almost growl like sound coming from his lips, and his eyes darted over to the leader, who was still in combat with Oikawa.

Hanamaki lunged forward, and the man jumped back, right into Iwaizumi’s waiting arms. He wrapped one arm around the man’s neck and quickly raised his sword, the sharpened tip pointing steadily at his face. 

“Drop your sword, now.” Hajime commanded.

The sword clattered to the ground. 

There was a curse beside them, and they turned to see that Matsukawa had a hold on the other man, holding him tightly to quell his squirms. Oikawa, who had still been fighting at this point, stood back. Hajime could see that he had been fighting defensively, not offensively, using mostly blocks and evasive maneuvers. Hanamaki’s voice rang out. “Your men have fallen.”

The leader stilled, and turned his head to see his comrades on their knees, swords pointed at their throats. A flicker of sadness flashed through his eyes, but he blinked at it was gone. “Congratulations, Prince,” he said, spitting the word out like venom, “go ahead, kill me.” He dropped his sword and walked up to Oikawa, neck bared like an offering, his lips curled. “Do what the Kingdom of Seijoh does best.”

Oikawa’s hands rested by his side, and his lips tightened in discomfort. He tilted his head and stared at the man, before sighing. “I will not kill you. I am not my father- death is not the only way.”

“Then what will you do? Surely you cannot be foolish enough to let me go?”

“I am not quite sure yet,” he admitted, “but first of all, you will return everything you have taken to these people. Then, you shall sit with me, eat, and tell me what your city is like.”

The shock registers clearly, as the man’s eyes widen, and his voice stutters. “Wh- why? Why would you request this?”

Oikawa gave a half smile. “Because I plan to help, obviously. I cannot have any part of my Kingdom feeling neglected when I am King- everyone must be seen to, and nobody shall go without. I am sure you can teach me much about the issues that condemn your town.”

There is silence, and after much stillness, the man nods minisculely. 

“Iwa-chan, tie their hands, but let them up,” Oikawa commands. 

Iwaizumi keeps his hands on the man’s neck, and marches him over to the broken wagon, picking up some rope lying in the back. He figured it was supposed to be used to tie their goods together, but tying their hands worked, too. He quickly sliced some off and chucked the rest to Matsukawa, who tied up his own guy. The raven nodded towards the man whose legs Iwaizumi had sliced. “What about him?”

Oikawa’s lips quirked. “Oh, Iwa-chan, slicing the poor man’s legs? How brutish.”

“It wasn’t hard enough to slice any tendons!” he defended with a huff, “I’ll stem the bleeding until we find a physician- there should be one in town who can patch him up.”

Iwaizumi pulled off his shirt, thankful of the warm night air to stop him shivering, and sliced a strip off with his sword. He knelt beside the man, who was moaning weakly, and apologised quickly before carefully tying the strips above his knee, pulling tight. He repeated the process, then stared at his mangled shirt before sighing, and tossing it away. 

Oikawa’s gaze lingered on him for a second too long, and then the prince spoke. “First off, cut those horses free and tie them to one of the trees so they don’t run away. Matsukawa, carry the injured one and lay him on your horse, he won't be able to walk on his own. Makki and Iwa-chan, get the other two. I’ve got this one.”

Leading the way with a rather solemn look on his delicate face, Oikawa’s hand never left the leader’s back, not pushing, but guiding him gently towards Hitoka’s small hut. Nobody spoke, and despite the unusual circumstances, Hajime relished in the peaceful night, enjoying the scruff of his shoes against the dirt and the chirp of cicadas. He turned his head, smiling slightly at the horses, and held back from blowing a kiss at Chiyo; even though she was Oikawa’s horse, she loved Iwaizumi more. Finally, they approached the house, and Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan, warn your mother. I do not wish for her to be frightened.”

Iwaizumi nodded, and Hanamaki grabbed ahold of his prisoner, allowing him to walk forth. He opened the squeaky wooden door and called out, “Mama, it’s me. Where are you?”

“Hajime!” she said, relief coursing through her voice. She ran from the small kitchen and into his arms, checking him over for scrapes. “Are you okay? How did it go? Is everyone safe? Why are your shirtless?”

“We’re all fine, mama,” he assured, “We captured the bandits, but Oikawa did not kill them. He plans to speak with them instead, in here. Don’t be alarmed, they’re tied up”

“Of course,” she said quickly, “Whatever the prince needs, please, don’t leave him waiting outside. I’ll ready some tea.”

As she bustled away, Hajime walked back, and ducked his head to Oikawa. “Go ahead, my Lord.”

Oikawa’s nose crinkled, but he pushed the man forward and, rather slowly, they all crammed themselves into Hitoka’s small hut. It was certainly cramped, barely enough room for them all, but the prisoners sat, Matsukawa laying the injured man gently on the floor. There was a tangible atmosphere of usease, which was broken when Oikawa quickly exclaimed, “Oh! I don’t even know your names! How rude of me, please, introduce yourself.”

The leader cleared his throat. “My name is Akio. These are my men- the one on the floor is Hideo, and these two are Daiju and Ikko.”

“I am Prince Oikawa, as you know, but these are my men, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Hanamaki.” Oikawa’s voice was kind, but his eyes narrowed. “Now, I do not wish to kill you, and you do not wish to die. However, I’ll need you to compromise with me if we are to get anywhere. The first step in sparing your lives, is your agreement to give back everything you have taken- money, pottery, gold, all of it. Agreed?”

“What am I to do then? A life is useless if it is barely a life; I cannot afford to feed my family if I do not take.”

“I swear to you, I will help your town. I will not let my people suffer.” Oikawa said seriously, crouching to eye level. “I need you to look at me and understand that I will do everything in my power to right these wrongs.”

Akio studies him carefully and, apparently satisfied by whatever he seen, nodded. “We’ll give it back.”

“Thank you. Now, tell me in depth the problems you face back home- Osaki or Shikama, am I right?”

“Shikama. There is little jobs, and the ones we have have very little wage, certainly not enough to live on; there is not enough rice farms, and whatever rice we do make is so expensive most of us have to eat the barnyard grass or millet instead. The children go hungry, I-I’m running out of ways to keep the families fed!”

“I see,” Tooru murmured gently, “have you reached out to anyone? The town council?”

Akio scoffs angrily, his lips curling. “Nothing, they did nothing! Unless you’re rich nobody cares. I was turned away, ignored no matter how many times I wrote to them...our people were left to suffer, and your King did nothing. This monarchy does not help the people who need it, it ignores us and casts us out. I have never been shown loyalty from the Kingdom of Seijoh, so it shall get none back.”

The prince processed this and looked at Akio, his eyes drifting all over his face before jumping across the room, staring at each of the men in turn. He looked deeply saddened at what he had heard. Iwaizumi wished he could comfort the prince- he knew Oikawa thought the world of the Kingdom and its people, and would never see them face any harm. The brunette finally spoke. 

“That will change, and I promise that on my life,” Oikawa said firmly, his voice strong and clear. “For now, I will do what I can for you. I will not kill you, I will visit monthly and distribute wealth and grain, and I will not tell my father of what has happened here today. If I cannot get him to agree to aid in the expansion and growth of Shikama then I assure you, it’ll be my first act as King. You will not suffer like this forever, especially not under my rein.”

Ikko lifted his face, dark deep set eyes glinting. “Thank you.”

Oikawa looked slightly surprised at the voice, and quickly smiled. “There is no need to thank me. I do agree that you all have been wronged. However, I must say- if I hear word of another raid, I will not be so forgiving a second time around. I will not tolerate fear mongering among my people- is that clear?”

They all nodded, and settled into silence. 

Hitoka popped her head through, carrying a tray with a small teapot, and a few cups. She looked at them all with unease, but sat the tray down in the middle of them all, offering a low bow to Oikawa afterwards. “Thank you, my Lord, for answering an old woman’s prayers.”

Tooru stared at her with utter fondness and pulled her to his chest when she rose from her bow. “Iwaizumi-san, you know I will always come when you call!”

She looked at Oikawa gratefully and, as if he were her son and not her future King, she raised a palm to his face and brushed a thumb across his cheekbone. “I know.”

Once she ambled back into the kitchen, Oikawa turned to the men, gaze sharp as a knife. “Now then, there’s much to do. Mattsun, take Hideo to the town physician and have his legs treated properly. Once you return, everyone shall sleep in the barn, for in the morning, we ride to Shikama- everything will be returned as agreed.” 

Oikawa clapped his hands, and began walking for the door. “Iwaizumi, come with me and let us prepare for the night. We shall need to acquire some more blankets and futons if possible. Makki, give what little food we have to Iwaizumi-san and let her prepare something for our guests, I’m sure they’re hungry.”

With that, he walked out, and Iwaizumi was forced to rush after him. “Wait! I can’t go into town without a shirt!”

Oikawa stopped and abruptly laughed. “I suppose you’re right. Go and ask your mother if she has any for you. I will wait here.”

Iwaizumi ambled back in and called for his mother. “Mama, I need a shirt, do you still have any of mine?”

“There should be some of yours lying around here, let me check,” she answered, heading out of view. 

Akio clicked his tongue. “The prince is a rather odd fellow.”

“Watch it,” Iwaizumi warned.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, it’s just- he’s different isn’t he? Look how he treated your mother; he’s actually kind to her. I’ve never seen a monarch allow a peasant to touch him before.”

Iwaizumi’s lips tightened, but he couldn’t exactly deny that his mother was poor. She was living off his wage only. Still, he shrugged. “He means it when he says he cares for his people. All of them.”

Hitoka came back out and passed Iwaizumi a bundle of cloth, smiling warmly. “Here, now go and help the prince.”

Iwaizumi pulled the shirt over his head, wincing at the scratchy thin fabric. He’d forgotten how damn itchy his old clothes used to be. The shirt still fit, but was tight around his arms now, not allowing for much movement. He sighed and found Oikawa again. “Okay, let’s go.”

They walked together in steady rhythm. It was a quiet night, but Iwaizumi could see people in their homes, peering out the windows waiting for attack. Oikawa shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “It hurts me to see how afraid everyone is. And yet, I cannot bring myself to be angry at Akio and his men.”

“Well that’s because no situation is ever black and white,” Iwaizumi reasoned, “and being able to see that makes you a good ruler.”

Oikawa said nothing, and smiled. 

“Where are we gonna get blankets from? Everyone’s in their beds.”

“We’ll just chap on doors and ask who has spares,” replied Oikawa happily. “I’d like a chance to see the people of this town more.”

He and Oikawa made their way through the town, chatting with every family and accepting whatever they could give gratefully, the prince smiling gracefully at every bow he received. Once they had a small handful of worn out duvets and paper thin pillows, they decided to head back to the barn, surprised to find everyone sitting there already. Someone had lit a small candle, and there was a pot in the middle with just enough food left for Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Iwaizumi set the bedding down and begun to arrange it as Oikawa picked at his meal, popping small amounts of rice into his mouth and chewing carefully. He was always a slow eater. 

“Beds are ready,” Iwaizumi announced. 

“Perfect!” Oikawa rejoiced, “Hideo, you should take the futon, you don’t want to aggravate the injury any more, especially if you are to heal fully. Did the physician see to you?”

The man nodded. “Yes, the pain has faded a little. Sire, are you sure the futon should go to me? You are royalty.”

“And you are injured,” he replied easily, moving on. “Everyone else, the pillows and blankets are for us. Try and get some sleep tonight, tomorrow is a long day. Tell me, did anyone thank Iwaizumi-san for the food?”

“We did,” Makki and Mattsun said in unison. 

Daiju cleared his throat. “I shall thank her in the morning. I cannot believe she has mustered kindness when all we have given her is fear.”

“She’s a remarkable woman,” Tooru agreed, “it would be in everyone’s best interest to learn something from Iwaizumi-san.”

“My mother would never turn away someone starving,” Hajime added. “We’ve been poor so long, she knows what it is to have an empty belly, and she wouldn’t wish it upon anyone else.”

“Tell me,”Akio asked curiously, “what does she work as to afford rice? Only the rich can afford rice in my village.”

“I send her my wages,” Iwaizumi explained. “She needs them more than I do.”

“Do you not wish you could keep your wage? I imagine you’d be able to treat yourself to many luxuries,” Ikku asked curiously. 

Vehemently, Hajime shook his head. “Never. Luxuries would mean nothing if it meant my mother struggled.”

“Besides,” Tooru chipped in, “Iwa-chan wishes for nothing. Anything his heart desires I’ll get him- he only has to ask.”

“I must admit, I’ve never seen a servant treated this way. It’s baffling.” Hideo commented, quickly raising a hand at Oikawa’s gaze. “I mean no offence, obviously.”

Matsukawa gave a lazy grin. “Iwaizumi’s the prince’s favourite.”

“Shut up.” Hajime grunted.

“If anything happened to Iwaizumi, Prince Oikawa would kill everyone in this room and then himself.”

Hanamaki cackled, and Oikawa simply blew a tuft of his hair out of his eyes, neither denying nor confirming it. “Enough chit chat, it’s late. Everyone should get some rest.”

Oikawa stood up and walked over to one of the beds Iwaizumi had made up, fluffing his thin pillow and pulling the threadbare blanket over his body. He was quickly followed by Iwaizumi, who slid down to the makeshift bed next to him, without even thinking about it; it was second nature to follow Oikawa wherever he went, no matter what. The rest of the chatter died down as the men found respective beds and settled for the night. 

“Thank you...my Lord,” whispered Akio’s subdued voice in the darkness. 

Iwaizumi could practically hear Oikawa’s smile. “You’re welcome. Now sleep.”

The next day was a long one: they had risen at the crack of dawn, eaten a small meek breakfast courtesy of Hitoka, and made their way to Shikama. All day they loaded what was left of the money, the foods and the goods into bags and satchels strapped to the horses, ready to ride back to Miyagi upon their journey back to Seijoh. Oikawa had shook hands with all the men, and even met their families. The prince had taken it as an opportunity to see more of Shikama’s conditions, and before they had parted ways, he reached into his drawstring bag and dished them all out gold coins.   
“It will not last for long, but it will be enough until I am able to send more,” he said resolutely, nodding as they bowed. 

The four of them rode the horses back to Miyagi, Iwaizumi’s arms looped around Oikawa’s waist and Makki’s wrapped around Mattsun’s, joking and laughing all the way. 

“You know,” Tooru said chirpily, “I feel very free right now. I feel as though I can do anything.”

“Do a backflip.” 

“Mattsun, don’t, he might actually try.” Iwaizumi warned.

They laughed again, and when Oikawa next spoke, it was curious. “Do you think they’ll raid again?”

“Hopefully not,” Makki answered, “I think at the very least you’ve proven to them you want to help. I think that’s a start.”

“I agree. As long as they see that you mean your word, I believe they’ll honour the agreement.” Matsukawa pondered. “Akio seemed to have gained some respect for you.”

“A huge victory, considering how insufferable you are,” Hajime muttered grumpily. He wanted to be home already. 

“Lying is a sin, Iwa-chan.”

Too tired to even retort, Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes. He could see the clearing of the trees, and nudged the horse faster. His mother was waiting for them wringing the cloth of her yukata together nervously, but she dropped it upon seeing them, and waved instead.

“Hajime! Did everything go okay?”

“Perfect, Mama,” he said, dismounting. He unstrapped the bags from the horses’ saddle and sat them at his mother’s feet. “Here’s what we could get back; there’s a mix of money and grain, some bits of pottery and other small goods. Will you be okay distributing it back?”

“Absolutely,” she said earnestly, “I’ll gather everyone at the temple today and we’ll split it the best way we can. Thank you so much, all of you.”

Oikawa walked next to Iwaizumi and smiled affectionately. “You don’t need to thank us, Iwaizumi-san. Please, write if you face any trouble again, we’re always at your rescue.”

“I am so very lucky to have such wonderful boys,” she gushed warmly, pulling them both in for a hug. “It has been such a pleasure to see you both again, I’ve missed you so!”

“We missed you too, Mama.” Iwaizumi assured her, rubbing a hand across her back. He stepped back and looked at the sun. “We should be heading back as soon as possible.”

“Please, don’t let me keep you,” she ushered, pushing Iwaizumi back to his horse. But then she took Oikawa’s hand, and pulled him into a hug. She kissed his cheek, and pulled back. “You are growing to be such a fine boy, Tooru. Your mother would be so proud.”

Oikawa placed his hand over her and let out a small, trembling sigh. “Thank you, Iwaizumi-san. I hope so.”

“I know so. I am proud of you also- you know you are always welcome here,” she cooed, “there will always be a place in my heart and my home for you.”

He hugged her tightly and gave her an honest, gentle smile. “I know. Please, write to us Iwaizumi-san. Hajime and I miss you terribly.”

“I will, now go! They’re waiting on you,” she chastised, brushing invisible dust off his shoulders and turning him towards the horses, where Iwaizumi was already perched upon Chiyo. “Ride safely, boys.”

“Goodbye, Mama,” Iwaizumi called out.

“It was lovely meeting you!” Matsukawa chirped as Oikawa waved a long lanky hand at her. 

Tucking a strand of her greying hair behind her ear, Hitoka waved them off fondly, and they made their way back to the castle, the sun beating down on them.


	21. chapter 21

War had broken out fiercely in the following months. The small amount of respite they had been offered upon return had quickly faded- only weeks ago they were rejoicing at Oikawa’s new strides as Price, the King allowing him the duties of repairing Shikama and Miyagi, and now the whole palace was tense, everyone treading on eggshells. It had been a tough, brutal war so far; casualties had been made on both sides, but Seijoh was losing men rapidly, and with every passing day, the battles grew worse. Shiratorizawa were a powerhouse nation, a huge Kingdom led by the powerful and blunt King Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi had heard tales about him, ungodly whispers about the things he was capable of, the brutality in which he fought. 

He was a man focused solely on winning, regardless of the consequences. 

Oikawa had taken over many of the King’s duties during the man’s absence; since his father had left to fight, Oikawa had taken rule of the main hall, crowded round a table with elders, physicians, soldiers, and more. A scribe was taking note of battle strategies and news, which would soon be sent off to his father. By his side were the old letters sent from the King himself, describing the intensity of the fight. It was the most tense Oikawa had been in a long while, and Iwaizumi could feel it in the tightness of the brunette’s muscles as he bathed him every night, could see it in the furrow of his brows that seemed to permanently reside on his face. 

Iwaizumi caught Oikawa in the halls, assessing him quickly. His gaze lingered on the heavy bags underneath the boy’s eyes, and he tugged on Oikawa’s sleeve. “Come on, you’re stressed and tired. I’ll run you a bath.”

“It’s the middle of the day, Iwa-chan.”

“Don’t care, come on.” Iwaizumi pulled him down the hall, stopping a passing by servant. “You, fetch water for the prince’s bath.”

“Yes, sir!” He bowed and hurried off.

Oikawa gave a small chuckle. “It’s so strange seeing your authority, you know that?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t really think about it.”

“You don’t think about anything, do you Iwa-chan? Nothing in that big empty skull of yours.”

It had been a while since Oikawa had hit out with a quip, and it released the ball of tension in Iwaizumi’s chest. He struggled to keep his smile at bay. “Shut up, idiot.”

Reaching Oikawa’s room, Iwaizumi pushed the prince in and began to reach for his towels whipping them and smoothing them out, satisfied at their plumpness.   
God forbid Tooru have a scratchy towel. 

“A bath does sound nice, to be fair,” he murmured quietly, “I feel exhausted.”

“You are exhausted,” Hajime pointed out. “You’ve been running yourself ragged, trying to do too much at the one time. You’ll burn out if you keep this up.”

“What else can I do? They’re all out there fighting to keep us safe, I have to make sure everything here is running as smoothly as possible. I can’t let anyone feel scared, I have to show them I’m doing everything I can.”

“Keep going on like this and all you’ll show them is a tired mess,” Hajime tutted, tugging the large metal tub forward. “You need to rest well so you can do your best work. Also, it would probably stop you looking like a racoon.”

“My bags aren’t that bad!” he squawked indignantly. 

“Trash panda.”

There was a knock on the door, and the servant walked in, pails of water hanging from his hands. More sat at his feet, and he bowed lowly. “Your water, sire.”

“That’ll be all,” Iwaizumi said, dismissing him. He took the water and poured it into the bath, swirling his hand around. “Tsk, not warm enough. Honestly, I keep telling them you like it hot.”

“There’s something relaxing about such heat,” the prince mused. 

Iwaizumi grabbed the small essential oil and dropped some in. Very last minute, he grabbed the flowers on the desk, freshly picked this morning, and began to pluck the petals to drop them in the bath. They floated on top of the water, a beautiful mix of colours, and Oikawa beamed. 

“I’m being spoiled.”

“Just stand up already,” Hajime grumbled, his hands making quick work of Oikawa’s robes. He untied each bit carefully, loosening the fabrics with gentle nimble movements perfected through years of work, folding each piece across the bed. When Oikawa was naked before him, he took his hand and led him to the bath, kneeling beside him as Oikawa submerged himself in the water. 

The prince poked at the petals, watching them swirl through his fingers. He seemed for once, completely content, just happy to admire the colours. Hajime rolled up his sleeves and placed his hands on Oikawa’s neck, beginning to move his thumbs in slow methodical movements. He worked out the knots in the muscle, occasionally running his fingers through Tooru’s hair, clipped nails dragging lightly down to the nape if his neck. As the minutes passed, he could feel Oikawa release the tension he had held onto so tightly, and Iwaizumi felt a slither of satisfaction. 

“I’m going to wash your hair now. Close your eyes.”

Iwaizumi rubbed a bar of soap inbetween his hands and, once sufficiently lathered, ran his hands through Oikawa’s thick hair, his fingertips brushing across his head with just enough pressure to feel good. He dipped the jug into the water, and like clockwork, Tooru leaned forward for him to wash the bubbles out. Then, the price lay back again, his long eyelashes clumped together with water, somehow making his round eyes look ever larger, and more innocent. 

“Hajime, read me something.”

Iwaizumi didn’t bother to question it. He stood and walked to Oikawa’s bookcase, picking out one at random- most of his literature was well read, so there was no real wrong choice. He kneeled back at Tooru’s side, and flicked open to a random page. His voice was soft but gravelly when he spoke:

“Short as the joints of bamboo reeds  
That grow beside the sea  
On pebble beach at Naniwa,  
I hope the time may be,  
When thou ’rt away from me.”

“More.” Oikawa demanded.

“Remembering you . . .  
The fireflies of this marsh  
seem like sparks  
that rise  
from my body’s longing.”

“It is so wonderful to hear you read out loud,” Oikawa whispered quietly. “I have such fond memories of when we were young- do you remember? I would teach you everything Masahiro had taught me, the two of us hidden away so that old boot couldn’t find us!”

“I remember,” he replied fondly, “i never thought I’d be able to read before. There’s a lot of things I can do now that I’d never have thought I’d learn.”

“What did you want to be when you were younger?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I think I always figured I would take over for my father, and be a blacksmith. There was never much question about it.”

Oikawa hummed. “What about now?”

“What?”

“What would you be now, if you could be anything at all?”

Iwaizumi thought about it. “A knight.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow, and he elaborated. 

“I’ve always loved the knights, you know that. I like the idea of keeping people safe, protecting the weak from harm. I loved the days when the knights would walk through our village, doing business for your father- I’d always hide behind my mother and watch them go by, wishing I could join in. I’d never be able to be one, obviously, but if I could be anything, it would be that. And of course, I'd watch the knights train once I moved here.”

“You surprise me everyday, Hajime,” Oikawa replied, reaching a wet hand out to twist around Iwaizumi’s. "Most people enjoy knighthood for the power and respect it brings- not for what it symbolises."

Iwaizumi ducked his head and kissed Oikawa tenderly, appreciative of the warm plushness. He bumped their foreheads together. “C’mon, let’s get you dried.”

Soon, Oikawa was dried and wrapped up in a long silk robe, tied loosely enough that it fell off his shoulder, exposing his strong collarbone and marble like skin, white as lilies. Iwaizumi trailed a finger down it, then looped back up to catch Oikawa’s chin in his grip. He pulled their faces together for yet another kiss. 

“You should sleep, just for a bit.”

“There’s still so much to do…”

“Do it for me, Tooru,” he said gingerly.

Unable to say no, the prince nodded and settled into bed, breathing a small sigh of relief as his head hit the pillow. He cracked one eye open. “You’ll wake me if I’m needed, won’t you?”

“Of course. Now sleep.”

“Thankyou, Hajime. I’m lucky to have someone who cares so deeply.”

Iwaizumi closed the curtains, and headed for the door, drawing it closed slowly. “Sleep well, my love.”

In the early hours of Monday morning, Oikawa woke up to the news that his father had died in battle.

The morning had flown in so quickly, it felt like everything was blurring past Iwaizumi with every step he took; to each side of him there was servants busting, elders talking in groups, knights, guards and generals shouting over one another as they tried to restore some order. And there, in the middle of it all, was Oikawa. He sat at the table, holding his crown in his hands, idly brushing his fingers over the jewels. People had been speaking to him all day, asking question after question, and to his credit, Oikawa had answered everything as best he could, keeping a brave face. 

Iwaizumi stood next to him. “How are you holding up?”

“I honestly don’t know. I feel like it hasn’t even settled in yet- what am I supposed to feel right now? Sadness? Anger? Relief?”

“Probably a bit of everything.”

“This changes so much...I never expected this would happen so soon. I thought I had some time left, time to grow up and learn more before being thrust onto the throne. This is going far too fast.”

Iwaizumi placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s overwhelming, but we’re all on your side. You’re not facing any of it alone.”

“Am I ready for this, Iwa-chan? Truly?” Oikawa looked scared in that moment, desperation in his wide brown eyes. 

Iwaizumi steeled his grip. “There’s nobody more suited than you. You were born to lead this Kingdom.”

“Sire!” yelled Ukai, storming into the room before bowing quickly, “they will escort your father’s body back tonight, shall we make preparations for the funeral tomorrow?”

“Yes, do whatever you must,” Oikawa said, waving a hand.

“Of course. As for your coronation- it must take place quickly. You need to be crowned as soon as possible, the kingdom cannot go long without a king.”

Oikawa’s breath shuddered, but he nodded. “Absolutely. Arrange it for Saturday, but start preparations now. I do not wish to be bothered with more questions today, please arrange whatever you can yourself, and only come to me if it is essential.”

Ukai bowed.

“Iwaizumi, to my room.”

Hastily, he followed Oikawa, who was walking so fast the ends of his kimono were floating deftly. Iwaizumi jogged to catch up to the prince, whose fist was clenched tightly against the crown. The brunette flung the room of his door open and stormed in, his chest heaving.

“Oikawa, talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

Tooru whirled on him, eyes glassy with tears. “I can’t do this! I don’t know how! I am to be King in a few days, and then what? I have to lead us into a war I don’t even know if we can win!”

“Hey, breathe, breathe,” Iwaizumi murmured, capturing Oikawa’s face in his hands. He rested their foreheads together, and took deep slow breaths. “Breathe with me.”

Oikawa’s lips trembled but he complied.

“Tooru, you’re going to be absolutely fine. You’ll be okay. Would I ever let anything happen to you? Would I?”

“...no.”

“Exactly. You’re never alone, never ever. I’m always right here, by your side. I’ll be with you tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day thereafter. Remember what I told you, when your mother died?”

Oikawa gulped. “One day at a time.”

“That’s what we’re gonna do,” Iwaizumi said gently, as if he were talking to a child, “we’re going to break it down. Tomorrow, we’ll have a funeral for your father. And then, Seijoh will crown it's best King yet. A King that will stand strong for his people, a King that will change the world. But tonight, it’s just me and you. Tonight, we’ll just breathe, okay?”

Oikawa gripped Iwaizumi’s wrist with a fearful strength, but it wavered. “I’m scared.”

“You should be,” Hajime chuckled, “it’s a scary time. It’s okay to be scared, Tooru. Everyone is. But I know you, and I know that you never let anything hold you back. You bounce back so strong, after every single challenge that’s thrown your way, you never give up. You’re the strongest person I know, and I am so proud of you. I know in my very core that you’re going to be amazing. You were born to be King.”

“I can’t do it without you,” he whispered, terrified. 

Hajime gently bumped their heads. “You’ll never have to. I’m always gonna be right by your side.”

Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi into a tight fierce hug, crushing their bodies together. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Hajime sang delicately, stroking his fingers carefully though Oikawa’s hair. “Come, lie with me.”

Oikawa let himself be pulled towards the bed, and nestled himself into Hajime’s embrace, tucking his head against the other’s neck. Hajime repeatedly touched him, letting his fingers drift across his skin, pull through his hair, wipe tears from his eyes, until Tooru’s breaths had finally evened out. He planted small sporadic kisses wherever his lips could reach, murmuring sweet nothings to fill the silence, his thoughts completely centred on Tooru. 

“ _Wake from death and return to life _.” Iwaizumi hushed as he caressed Tooru’s face. “Things are dire now, but you have it in you to turn it into something better. Show everyone just how great you are, Tooru. Show them what I see.”__


	22. chapter 22

“My people,” Oikawa declared loudly, his voice strong and steady despite the bags under his eyes and the shake in his hands, “today we say our farewell to a man you knew as King. A man who ruled this Kingdom for twenty five long and prosperous years, a man whose every decision was made with his men in mind.”

The crowd watched him in enamorment, their eyes wide and glassy. There were open sobs, but as Oikawa stood, wind whipping his hair around his face, he let his eyes drift across the crowd, as if trying to memorise every face. 

“A man,” he continued, louder, “who gave his life in battle to protect you. Today, we say farewell to a warrior.”

Iwaizumi stood in the front of the crowd, his eyes never leaving the prince, meeting his gaze every few seconds and nodding, encouraging him along. He had cried all last night in Hajime’s arms, his sobs only subsiding as the sun rose, signalling the start of a new day. 

The start of a new life, really. 

He watched Oikawa stand and felt a wave of pride slam into his chest, once again amazed at the boy’s ability to hold face, as if his fears had not spilled from his lips the night before; instead he spoke clearly, with dry eyes, his voice booming across the crowds. Like a true leader, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but think. 

Then, Oikawa, with the help of some of his father’s personal counsel, approached the raft upon which the King lay. Hajime caught a brief look at him: a tall and built man, who’s once fit body had given way to pudge with age; deep set eyes and sharp nose, wrinkled skin withered by the sun and his last days of battle, and a long, wiry black moustache. He was dressed in the finest of robes, and strangely, his crown remained on his head, a deep rich gold glistening with rubies and gems. Flowers encased the body, and Iwaizumi could see clearly the sword still held in his hand.

Gently, they pushed the raft into the lake, wading in up to their knees in the cold clear water. The raft floated gently away from them, leaving a cascade of ripples behind, and just as methodically, they walked back, Oikawa’s face unchanging despite the discomfort.

“Archers, at the ready!” Oikawa demanded, and immediately, a line of archers stood forward, bows raised. Oikawa took a torch handed to him by Ukai, and walked along, lighting every single one of their bows. “Now!”

It felt like a hundred arrows were released as Iwaizumi looked at the sky in awe. He remembered a similar sight from Eri’s funeral, but this felt different- he could tell Oikawa had had more of a hand in this one than he had with his mother’s. Some of them missed, and splashed into the water, but plenty hit, and almost immediately, flames began to lap at the raft, quickly engulfing it wholly. 

Hajime had always been amazed at the funerals for royalty, so different to his own father’s. But then, Oikawa raised his hand, and let out a bellow:  
“Long live the King!”

The resulting cheer was deafening, Iwiazumi’s own voice lost to the noise.

“LONG LIVE THE KING!”

***

Things moved quicker than Iwaizumi had imagined- the palace was running at top speed, everyone doing as many jobs as they could to prepare for the coronation: the kitchens were preparing to make immense amounts of food, and Suga’s face was flushed red when Iwaizumi made his way to the kitchens. 

Iwaizumi found the head chef, and spoke clearly and quickly. “The Prince wants Nihonshu with the starters, red wine with the mains. Starters are salmon, miso soup, cheeses, kaki and cuts of meat from as many animals as you can find- he wants as much variety as possible. Mains are to be tempura, as many different types as you can make, sushi, turkey, chicken, goose, and deserts are to be manju, mochi, castella, and fresh fruit, enough to cover all the tables.”

The woman looked back at him in shock before shaking her head and nodding. “We’ll do it.”

“Im sorry,” Iwaizumi apologised, “I tried to convince him to ask for less but he’s insisting on the biggest banquet possible.”

“Please, do not fret. It’ll be busy, but we can do it. We shall never say no to the future King.”

Iwaizumi bowed in thanks and turned, bumping into Suga. “Oh, hey Suga.”

“Hajime!” the blonde grinned, despite his stress. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’ve been getting lazy these days, I keep sending other servants down to get Oikawa’s breakfast,” he mused. 

“Well start coming down again, I miss seeing you,” he pouted, “anyway, how’s the Prince?”

“He’s surprisingly okay. I think he’s just too busy getting ready for the coronation to think of anything else,” Hajime replied honestly, “but right now, he’s just firing out decisions faster than anyone can take note- I don’t even think he knows what he’s saying.”

“Aw, give him a break,” Koushi ushered gently, “he’s been through a lot. Just humour him.”

Iwaizumi gave a short laugh. “You won’t be saying that when you hear what he wants you to cook.”

Suga looked queasy. “Oh, no. How much?”

Hajime gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “You’ll never leave this kitchen again. See ya, Koushi.”

Before the blonde could protest, Iwaizumi was on the move again. He walked through the halls, twisting and turning to avoid bumping into people, and made his way to the great hall, where Tooru stood. He was stood in front of a very nervous looking servant.

“Sire, the flowers?”

“Camellia, red spider lily, and plum blossom,” Oikawa fired off, without a second thought. Then he spotted Iwaizumi, and smiled. “Iwa-chan. Did you tell the kitchens?”

“I did,” he said. “They hate you now.”

Oikawa waved his hand. “Hush, Nobody could hate me.”

“My Lord, the guests have started to arrive!”

“Ah!” Tooru gasped, “Please, make sure everyone is led to their rooms immediately. Whatever they require, we shall provide.”

The servant bowed and exited back out the door as quickly as they came. Another one followed soon after, a young girl with long sleek black hair pulled back from her angular face. “Sire, the seamstress sends me to tell you the robes shall be finished by midnight.”

Tooru nodded in thanks, and waved his hand, excusing her. Iwaizumi took the opportunity to speak. “How you feeling?”

“Fine, Iwa-chan.”

“Are you sure? It’s okay to talk to me if-”

“Iwaizumi, I’m fine. You’re excused.” Oikawa said in a strained voice. 

Hurt ebbed away at his chest, but Hajime bowed and left, lips pressed in a tight line. He went for a walk out to the stables and saw Takeda and Daichi, moving the horses about, unaware of his presence yet. He ambled up to them and they turned in surprise. “Oh! Iwaizumi!”

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” He inquired.

Takeda nodded in the direction of the castle. “Preparing for the guests- a lot of them travelled by horse, so they’ll need space.”

“We’re moving the horses into slightly smaller spaces to share, just temporarily,” Daichi added, wiping away some sweat from his brow. “It’s good to see you, though! You’re almost never away from Prince Oikawa these days.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “He’s been especially demanding lately, but I’ve got some time now. Can I help?”

“The more the merrier!” Takeda rejoiced, pushing Iwaizumi towards a horse.

Quietly but contentedly, Iwaizumi began to free the horses and coax them out of their stalls as he transferred them, all the while murmuring to them and laughing as they bumped their faces against his- he really had missed the horses. He and Daichi would chat every now and then, about Suga, or the palace, or whatever popped into their minds. He always liked that about Daichi, the ease in being friends with him. Eventually, after Iwaizumi had moved a a fair share of horses, he looked up at the sky, noticing how much time had passed, and clicked his tongue. “I should probably go. Lot of work to do.”

“Thanks for the help,” Takeda said good-naturedly, and Daichi shot him a wave. 

Iwaizumi nodded and headed back, thinking of everything he had to do: clean Oikawa’s room, polish his crown, change the bed sheets, fill the bath, wash Oikawa, prepare his clothes for the morning...he groaned and started walking towards the Prince’s room. As it always does when he worked, time seemed to pass quickly. Oikawa walked in when he had already finished most of the tasks, then just finishing up with the crown. 

“Iwa-chan, I didn’t know you’d be here,” Oikawa squawked. 

“I’m your servant, idiot.”

“I know,” he said, voice sheepish, “still, it’s nice to see you. I’ve been incredibly busy. What are you doing?”

“Your chores,” he relied quietly, focused on his polishing. The metal was starting to gleam, all the small intricacies and jewels glinting by the candlelight, and he was satisfied with how good it looked in his hands. “I’ve pretty much finished here, and then I’ll run your bath.”

Oikawa held his hand out for the crown, and Hajime passed it to him wordlessly. Oikawa studied it, as if he had never seen it before, his careful gaze focused. “It feels so strange to know that when I wear this tomorrow, everything will be different.”

Iwaizumi hummed. “Why didn’t you take your father’s crown?”

“I am not him,” Oikawa said simply, “and I want the people to know that. My crown will be my own, because I will be unlike any King they have seen before. Under my reign, things will be different.”

The corner of Hajime’s lips quirked, and he had to stop himself chuckling; it was a very ‘Tooru’ way of looking at things.

Oikawa then huffed a small laugh, and stood up, crown held gently in his hands. He reached out and placed it on Iwaizumi’s head, leaning back to admire his work. “You’d make a fine king, you know.”

Iwaizumi’s lips twisted and he lifted the crown, placing it gingerly on the pillow that sat askew on the table. He narrowed his eyes threateningly. “Don’t do that, that crown shouldn’t ever sit on my head. I am no king.”

“You’re right,” Oikawa said modestly, a hint of teasing in his voice, “you’re a queen.”

“Oikawa, I swear to God-”

“My fair queen, I have never seen beauty like yours! Why, your hair as black as onyx, your skin kissed by the sun, and your eyes! Oh, they are made from jade, are they not? Please, let me rest my head upon your ample bosom-”

Iwaizumi tackled him to the bed and they began to wrestle, Oikawa shrieking in laughter as he tried to elbow his way out, helpless giggled pouring from his mouth as Iwaizumi pinned him. 

“I am so close to beating the shit out you.”

Oikawa laughed again, a delightful sound, his warm chocolate eyes crinkled at the sides. “I just want to touch your bosom!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and kissed Tooru’s lips, unable to hide his own smile- it was impossible to stay mad with Oikawa beneath him, smile wide and cheeks flushed with happiness. His hair curled around his pale face like the petals of a budding rose, and his lips help the same redness, plush from Iwaizumi’s touch. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful,” Iwaizumi started, ignoring Tooru’s squeal, “because you are so fucking annoying. Genuinely.”

Oikawa simply snickered, and pulled Iwaizumi to his chest, peppering his face with kisses. They lay like that on the bed until the candle burned out, uncaring of tomorrow’s problems- for tonight, it was just them.


	23. chapter 23

Iwaizumi couldn’t quite describe the feeling in his chest; the deep, powerful thrumming that seemed to shake his bones, the slithering knots in his stomach twisting and turning, the tingle that ran all down his spine and out to the very tips of his fingers, tapping against his legs repeatedly. He’d never been more nervous, or more excited, for something in his life before, and yet here it was, finally happening- Oikawa’s coronation.

The hall buzzed around him, hundreds of tapping feet and hushed voices coming from servants and royalty alike, all waiting to catch a glimpse of Oikawa. The preparations had been immense- flowers decorated the room, bouquets gathered at the altar, and garlands strung across the walls, twisting stems with beautiful bursts of colour, a sweet pleasant smell in the air. There was great beams of light streaming in from the window, the sunlight dancing across the floors and walls as if it, too, could not wait for the prince to arrive. 

The counsel stood, and then one of them stepped forward, an old man with skin like leather and hair as white as snow, and spoke: “Prince Tooru.”

The room quietened and the doors opened, and Oikawa walked down slowly. He was dressed magnificently, in the richest of fabrics, the delicate silk flowing like water around his ankles. His obi was wide and a deep blue, decorated with a variety of ropes, beads and fresh flowers, and the fabric of his kimono was a mix of patterned and plain, drawing every eye to himself. His hands were hidden by his long sleeves, and his hair was pushed out of his eyes, the warm brown irises glowing as sunlight landed on them. His back was straight and his steps even, his face so carefully held in place he looked like a statue- a work of art. Iwaizumi watched him as he walked, breathing a small sigh as the prince passed him and walked up to the altar; he hadn’t realised how worried he’d been, but seeing Oikawa composed, looking ready, eased the weight on his shoulders. 

Behind him walked some men, carrying the imperial treasures: one held a large sword; the second a single bead; the third, a circular mirror with an etching of the sun in the middle. They took their place by the counsel, posture rigidly straight, and placed the items on a podium in front of Oikawa, away from the eyes of the crowd. 

“Today,” the chamberlain started, “we crown our Prince as King. Prince Tooru, son of Eri and Hiro, today you take the throne, and rule the Kingdom of Seijoh. You are to rule according to law, exercise justice with mercy, and lead our people to success, wealth and prosperity. Under your rein, you will serve and protect this Kingdom, and in return, it shall serve and protect you. Are you willing to accept this oath?”

Oikawa’s voice was clear. “I am willing.”

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Seijoh,and of your Possessions and the other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise to do so.”

He continued. “Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?”

“I will.”

The man nodded and turned to his side, carefully picking up Oikawa’s crown from a pillow, lifting it slowly above his head, to the light. It glinted and gleamed, heavy and solid gold, adorned with jewels, and Iwaizumi held his breath as it was placed rightfully on Oikawa’s head. 

The chamberlain smiled, and then his voice boomed. “Long live the King!”

Iwaizumi was yelling before he even knew what he was saying. “LONG LIVE THE KING!” 

Oikawa turned around and watched as the hall chanted in unison, loud and passionately, his eyes meeting Iwaizumi’s briefly, who’s own hand was in the air, his throat tightening with emotion. 

Oikawa gave a dazzling smile as he looked across the room of people, able to hear even the chants of those in the citadel, shouting their support. He kept his head high, as if the crown weighed nothing, and called out, “To the banquet hall!”

The hall was even more lustrous than Iwaizumi had imagined: tables were filled with flowers, endless amounts of food, and some of the finest plates and goblets Iwaizumi had ever seen. The colours were deep red and gold, from the carpets to the drapes, and the sound of music filtered through, lively and entertaining. The guests began to find their seats, royalty sitting at Oikawa’s table, and immediately Iwaizumi set off for Oikawa, taking his spot behind the new King. People were chatting loudly to him, congratulations spilling from their lips, and Oikawa smiled graciously at it all, taking his seat at the head of the table. Servants rushed in and began to fill goblets up as fast as they could, one of them passing a bottle into Iwaizumi’s waiting hands so he could fill Oikawa’s. 

The smell was delicious, and Hajime’s stomach grumbled loudly as more of it was brought out. Once the hall was full, seating easily a thousand people, more and more guests arriving to take their place, Oikawa stood, and the noise fell. 

“My people, today marks the start of a new era,” he began, cheeks rosy with the heat, “With this crown on my head, I’ve made a promise to you all, but also to myself- that I will always and forever protect this Kingdom with my life; I know we face many problems, and the road ahead may be treacherous, but fear not, for I will never let you do it alone. Under my reign, we will band together, grow stronger, smarter, quicker, and show our enemies a side of Seijoh they have never seen before! Raise your glass in a toast! To Seijoh!”

“To Seijoh!” They chorused, goblets in the air. 

There was a large cheer and a multitude of clapping, and then Oikawa sat, and everyone dug in to their food. Iwaizumi felt his heart swell with pride and he topped up Oikawa’s cup. 

Tooru smiled up at him. “Thank you, Iwa-chan.”

“How do you feel?”

Tooru took a sip of his cup, his eyes roaming over everyone in the hall. He gave a small smirk. “Like a King.”

“You’re certainly dining like one,” Hajime commented, nodding at Oikawa’s overflowing plate. “I don’t even want to think about how much it cost.”

Flippantly, Oikawa wafted his hand. “Cost is nothing. I’ll only ever get to do this once, I might as well splurge. The food is wonderful, I must thank Suga for his hard work.”

“Suga, and the other hundred kitchen staff,” Iwaizumi replied, brow raised. “I honestly think you don’t know how many people are needed to run this castle. It takes a small army just to keep up with your demands.”

“Well however many there are, they’ve made some wonderful food,” he said happily, picking up some with his chopsticks and chewing carefully. “Won’t you have some?”

Hajime felt is eyes widen, and held back the urge to smack the boy over the head. “You can’t be serious, you can’t give a servant food, not when the royals are eating, and especially not off your plate!”

“Oh,” he pondered, “I suppose you’re right. Truly, Iwa-chan, I forget you’re a servant sometimes. You’re just so bad at it, it seems impossible that you actually get paid for it.”

Hajime grit his teeth, voice dropping. “One more word and I’ll pour that wine over your head.”

“Now that would just be a waste of good wine,” he retorted, downing the rest of his cup. “Better make sure it gets put to a good use- fill it up again, won’t you?”

Hajime filled up his cup, and continued to do so for the rest of the night. Oikawa filled himself with a mountain of food and twice as much wine, his cheeks rosy red as he rejoiced with the members of his table, laughing vibrantly at all that was said. He bobbed his head to the music, and his voice was loud and happy, his words slurring slightly. 

Currently, he was talking to a man called Kiyoko Ayumu, who Iwaizumi knew to be the head of Seijoh’s trading- he oversaw all of the trades and deals, establishing the strongest connections and keeping the market level to ensure profit. He was a smart man, and a very wealthy one at that. He had a thick flat nose, an upper lip completely dominated by a moustache, and choppy black hair. Next to him was one of the most beautiful girls Hajime had ever seen- she was tall and slender, with high cheekbones, and a delicate pointed chin; her lips were small but plump, the same gentle pink as the blush on her cheeks, and her eyes were wide and rimmed with thick black lashes, the iris a deep, mesmerising blue. Her onyx hair was tucked behind her ear, the rest of it falling down her back and over her shoulder like a waterfall. He couldn’t help but look at her- aside from Oikawa, he had never seen beauty like it.

“My Lord,” the man said, “have you met my daughter? Shimizu, say hello.”

The woman spoke, her voice quiet amidst the noise. “Hello, King Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi could see Tooru’s eyes shine. He loved pretty things, and with a sinking feeling in his chest Hajime knew she was one of them. The King leaned forward, and took her thin hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. “Hello, Shimizu. I must say, you are absolutely stunning, shame on your father for hiding you from me this long.”

She looked down in embarrassment, her cheeks darkening. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Ayumu gave a hearty laugh, his hand on his daughter’s back. “She’s very shy, my Lord, but she has her mother’s beauty!”

“A beauty unmatched,” Oikawa grinned, winking at her. “Tell me, Shimizu, do you have a suitor?”

Iwaizumi could feel his heart stop- was Oikawa seriously asking this girl if she was single?

Kiyoko shook her head no. Her father spoke instead. “I have not yet found a man worthy enough to take her hand, my Lord. I mean, look at her! A girl of her beauty and manner, she is to make the finest wife in all of Japan.”

Oikawa gave a sly smile. “I agree, I have never seen anyone like her before. Whoever she ends up with will be a lucky man indeed.”

“Oh, you never know. Maybe a King will come along one day and claim her as his.” Ayumu joked, raising a thick eyebrow at Oikawa. They all laughed, and Ayumu rested his head on his hand. “It won’t be long now until you find yourself a bride, King Oikawa. Have you been looking?”

“No, I haven’t,” he slurred, downing the rest of his wine. “But I doubt I’ll have to look long- the world is full of beautiful girls!”

“All of whom would be blessed to be your Queen,” Ayumu agreed heartily, “I assure you, my Lord, Shimizu is offered to you for whenever you start looking. It would give us great honour to have her be your wife.”

Oikawa’s heavy eyelids fluttered, and he tilted his head towards Shimizu. “Well that is cause for celebration! Iwa-chan, more wine!”

Iwaizumi was already walking away before Oikawa even finished his sentence. He didn’t care, couldn’t care- how could he do that? How could he flirt in front of him, not a care in the world? It boiled his blood, made his fists clench so hard he couldn’t unfurl them. He didn’t bother looking back at Oikawa, instead slipping into the crowd, twisting through it until he made his way out to the corridor. He leaned against the wall, eyes scrunched closed, and struggled to keep his breathing steady. It was different this time- it wasn’t mindless flirting, or event he words of a drunk man, no: it was the future. It was Oikawa actually discussing a wife, and it hurt so much Iwaizumi couldn’t bare to think about it. 

He felt a cool palm on his face, and opened his eyes to see the honey brown gaze of Suga, apron tied tight and covered in stains. He looked concerned. “Hajime, what’s wrong?”

Iwaizumi took a few deep breaths in an attempt to settle his voice. “Oikawa was flirting with one of the women at the table...he and her father were discussing her potential as Queen.”

Suga’s mouth popped open, and then he closed it, choosing instead to pull Iwaizumi to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Haji, I really am.”

Iwaizumi clung to him gratefully, feeling his lips tremble. “It hurts so much, Koushi. I’ve thought about it before, of course I have, but actually seeing it, knowing that it’s going to happen, I can’t bear it.”

“Even when he gets a wife, it will always be you he loves,” Suga soothed, running his fingers through Hajime’s spiky hair. “You know he cannot be without you.”

“What use it is?” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. “It doesn’t matter how much he loves me- he’ll have to marry one day. I just can’t help but feel so angry, none of this is fair!”

Suga took Hajime’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere,” he replied, already dragging Haime through the corridors and out the back. The warm air hit them like a wall, and Suga took a deep breath, appreciating the silence. Outside, the hustle and bustle of the celebrations were background noise. He continued to walk, Iwaizumi still holding his hand loosely. “Let’s go sit in the garden. You like it there.”

Iwaizumi had no complaints. They made their way to the garden and sat down in the grass, Sugawara leaning his head on the crook of Iwaizumi’s shoulder. For a moment, they sat in silence, just enjoying the night, and then Suga spoke. 

“You know, life will always be hard for you,” he began, voice soft. “You’re in love with Oikawa- of all the people you could have picked, you picked the one who’s going to hurt the most.”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “I wish I picked him. I feel like I had no say in the matter.”

“Then maybe the Gods picked,” he replied easily. “I feel like they picked Daichi for me.”

“Would you change it? If you could?”

Koushi hummed. “No. I know life for us will be hard. Daichi and I, we’ll never truly be able to be together the way I want. If I had it my way, we’d be out of here by dawn, riding somewhere far away where nobody knows our names. We could start again, you know? New lives. A new path.”

“That sounds nice,” Iwaizumi said wistfully. 

Koushi chuckled. “It’s all just dreaming, Hajime. Daichi would never leave. The same way Oikawa can’t leave. He’s born into this role, and he has to play it every day until the end- there’s no escape for him. His path’s been chosen already. Yours hasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“You could leave,” Suga said softly, staring ahead. He took Hajime’s hand in his, and rubbed it with his thumb. “You could actually do it- run away, I mean. Start over. Live a new life, far far away from here. You could escape this, and stop yourself getting hurt.” Silence passed between them. “But you won't. Because you love him.”

“Because I love him,” Hajime repeated somberly. “I know all this. I know what his life means, I know this stuff has to happen...so why does it hurt so much to see it?”

“Knowing it has to happen and accepting it are two different things,” Suga replied carefully, smiling faintly. 

“So what do I do?”

“Talk to him. Oikawa might be an idiot, but he’ll always listen to you,” Suga said, moving to stand up. He kissed Iwaizumi’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, Haji.”

Iwaizumi grunted a goodbye, and lay back on the grass, closing his eyes. 

He wasn’t sure how much time has passed before he felt someone approach him, sitting down clumsily in the space next to him. He opened his eyes, and saw a familiar sight of messy brown hair and wide eyes. 

“What do you want, Oikawa?”

“Why are you out here?” Oikawa asked, “I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I wanted to be away from you,” he answered honestly. 

Oikawa went quiet, head tilting. “Why?”

Iwaizumi bit his lip. His head still thumped with the force of his thoughts, and he turned to Oikawa, gaze piercing. “Because I’m hurt. I seen you Oikawa, talking with Ayumu and Shimizu- didn’t you think about the things you said? How hurtful they would be for me to hear? For you, you could have anyone you wanted. You could have every single woman in this whole entire Kingdom falling over their feet to get a glimpse of you; you could have a wife, a family, children, all at the drop of a hat. But what about me? What do I have? All I have is you, Tooru. There’s no other life for me than here, as your servant, until the very day I die. I know you won’t be mine, not really- not the way Shimizu can- so what’s the point? Why does it hurt so fucking much knowing I have to give you up?”

Oikawa looked stunned, and then he bowed his head, a tear falling down his face. “I...I’m sorry. I never meant- I was just schmoozing! It didn’t mean anything-”

“It doesn’t matter, Oikawa. Because even if it didn’t mean anything now, it will some day. You’ll go on to live your life, and I’ll be there in the background, watching it all. I’m always going to be in the background. Hell, I’ll probably be the one stuck watching your kid.”

“Then, I won’t marry!”

Iwaizumi huffed a laugh. “Don’t be stupid, you have to. There has to be an heir.”

Oikawa stared at the grass, aimlessly picking at it with his hands. “Then, I won’t marry for love. That’s the least I can offer you; you’re the only one I’ll ever love, Hajime. Shimizu is nothing, no wife will ever mean more to me than you do.”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes. “I wish I could run away, but I can’t. Somehow, the idea of never seeing you again hurts a hundred times more than living through this.”

“I’m always yours,” Oikawa said earnestly. “Always, Hajime. I would die for you. I would give you the whole world, if you asked for it.”

Iwaizumi looked him in the eyes, his demeanor softening at the determination in them, the emotion in his voice. His eyes were glassy, but still blindingly intense, as if he were trying to drill the words into Hajime’s soul. 

Iwaizumi sighed, and placed a hand on Oikawa’s cheek. “I know. You’re an idiot.”

Oikawa allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Iwaizumi kissed the top of his head, and Oikawa hummed. “I love you, Hajime.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he breathed in Oikawa’s perfume. “I love you, too.”


	24. chapter 24

Some days later, Oikawa came out with the most peculiar statement Iwaizumi had heard.

“Iwa-chan,” he began, not looking at him, “I’m going to make your dreams come true.”

Iwaizumi stopped in the middle of changing the bedsheets, immediately suspicious. “I don’t like where this is going.”

Oikawa smiled, but did not laugh. Instead, he looked actually serious, and beckoned Hajime over. “Come here, sit down.”

Somewhat afraid, Iwaizumi made his way over and sat down, hands resting in his lap. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I’m King now, and I’ve yet to do my first official act as King.” He looked at Iwaizumi to make sure he was listening. “A while ago, I asked you a really important question. I asked you what you would be if you could be anything.”

“Oikawa, where is this going?”

“Hajime, I’m going to knight you.”

Iwaizumi felt everything around him still. “What?”

“I’m going to make you a knight of Seijoh.” Tooru said, his lips splitting into a grin.

Iwaizumi spluttered, unable to comprehend what Oikawa was trying to say. “But-but you can’t! I’m not of royal bloodline!”

“I don’t care.”

“But the council won’t agree- Oikawa, this is an age old tradition! Nobody is going to let you do this!”

“Exactly, nobody will _let _me do anything, because I’m the King,” he replied seriously. “Iwaizumi, this Kingdom will not be the same under my rule. I have told them this many many times, and I will continue to rule it the way I see fit. I will do this for you, regardless of what anyone says. You are worthy of so much more than the life you have. Please, let me give you this.”__

__Iwaizumi sat in his seat, mind whirring. A knight? He was going to be a knight? He felt his lip tremble, and looked at Oikawa. He was almost afraid to believe it, too terrified that it would be snatched away, and uttered his next words quietly. “You promise?”_ _

__Oikawa leaned forward and kissed his lips. “I have never lied to you. I will not start today.”_ _

__Iwaizumi felt his eyes water and flung his arms around Oikawa, yanking him close. He heaved a breath, and pressed his trembling lips against Oikawa’s. “I...thank you. Thank you, Tooru. Thank you.”_ _

__Oikawa ran a hand through his hair and hushed him. “Thank me for nothing. From this day on you are my equal, in every way you can be. You’ll want for nothing Hajime, not when I’m with you.”_ _

__The ceremony took place three days later. Iwaizumi had to give it to him- Oikawa was quick about these things. He had sat down with the council and told them- not asked- what was happening. He refused to hear any complaints about it, cutting off every splutter or objection with a narrowed gaze and dangerous smile, and Iwaizumi felt his heart swell when Oikawa declared the meeting over, leaving all their faces gaping, like fish out of water. He had even sent note to Miyagi and arranged for transport to get Iwaizumi’s mother here. The small hall was filled with many faces he knew well: his mother sat front row, her eyes watery with tears of pride; Suga and Daichi, hands loosely grazing each other’s; Hanamaki and Matsukawa, their faces lit up with matching grins; Irihata, old and worn but with a small smile on his face; and of course, Oikawa._ _

__He stood tall, Iwaizumi kneeled before him. “Everyone, today you witness my first act as King- the knighting of Iwaizumi Hajime, former servant to the King- from this day onward, he shall be a servant no more. I am familiar with the old customs of this country, and I ignore them; in my country, in my Kingdom, I care not for your wealth, or your bloodline. I care for your heart, your morals, your integrity, your loyalty- and nobody has shown me these more than this man here. If anyone could perfectly encompass what it means to be a knight of Seijoh, it is Iwaizumi Hajime. It is for this reason, that I have blessed him with the knighthood, for there is nobody who deserves it more.”_ _

__Iwaizumi felt his face flush as he listened, his heart thumping so fast he knew everyone must’ve been able to hear it. He wanted nothing more than to jump up and hug Oikawa, crush him to his chest and kiss him, but he forced himself to stay on the ground patiently. It felt like such little time had passed since Oikawa announced his plans, and yet it had been three whole days- three days of Iwaizumi stuck in a daze, unable to stop himself from grinning every time he thought about it.  
Oikawa reached to his belt and unsheathed a sword, the loud clatter of sliding metal filling the room. “Iwaizumi Hajime, do you swear under oath to protect your King and people?”_ _

__“I swear,” he said loudly as his eyes began to water. He’d never meant something more in his life._ _

__Oikawa smiled, a secret soft one just for Iwaizumi. He lifted the sword high, and gently tapped it against Iwaizumi’s shoulders.  
“Iwaizumi Hajime, I appoint you a knight of Seijoh.”_ _

__Iwaizumi stood, and turned to face the crowd, a smile splitting his face as they began to cheer for him. He looked over at the faces of his family and friends, genuinely touched at their happiness- his mother was crying freely, and Sugawara cheered loudly, despite the embarrassed glance from Daichi. Oikawa laughed gloriously behind him, and laid a hand on the small of his back. He leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Go on, say something.”_ _

__His lips brushed Iwaizumi’s cheeks as he pulled back, too quick to be noticed by anyone else. Iwaizumi cleared his throat, feeling himself redden a little; he had never been good at public speaking, having spent most of his life in the background. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to express how much it means to me to stand here today in front of you all and receive this honour, but I’ll try: I grew up a poor boy in a tiny village and never in my life did I think this would ever be an option for me; I thought my future was set in stone, and I’d spend the rest of my days in the fields or a shack. When I began work for the palace and moved here...so much of my life changed. I made wonderful friends, I had enough money to support my family, and I experienced some of the best moments of my life within these castle walls. I always wanted to be a knight, but after growing up with the people in this room, spending over half my life serving you all, I can say with absolute truth there is no one I’d be more proud to protect than you guys. Today, something I have only dreamed about is finally a reality. And I’ll never stop feeling grateful for that.” He faced Oikawa. “Never.”_ _

__Oikawa’s face was soft, his warm eyes meeting Iwaizumi with nothing but love. He pulled Iwaizumi in for a hug, uncaring of who saw them. Then, he spoke to the crowd. “Everyone, a celebration for Knight Iwaizumi!”_ _

__They all cheered again, and then his mother ran up to hug him. She pulled him down to her level and squeezed so tight he worried about his ribs breaking. “I am so proud of you and everything you have become. I could not have asked for a better son.”_ _

__“I love you, mama,” he answered, kissing her grey hair._ _

__She took his hand in hers, and pressed something into his palm. “I want you to have this. It’s the wedding ring your father gave me.”_ _

__Iwaizumi uncurled his hand and looked at it. It was a simple ring, no garnish par the one small gem in the middle. “Why?”_ _

__“For you to give it to the one you love,” she said. Hitoka pulled her son forward and kissed his cheek. “Keep it safe until then, Hajime.”_ _

__“I will, Mother. I promise.”_ _

__Then, she moved to Oikawa, and bowed deeply before rising, and giving him the same hug she had given Iwaizumi. “Thank you for giving Hajime more than I ever could. I will forever be indebted to you, Tooru. I love you as my own, and I will never forget this.”_ _

__He hugged her back. “I love you, too, Iwaizumi-san. It has been my pleasure to give Hajime this- thank you for raising the finest man I’ve ever known. Please, take full advantage of whatever you’d like whilst you are here- you may stay as long as you wish. If you require anything at all, just ask.”_ _

__Iwaizumi smiled at their interaction and walked towards Makki and Mattsun, both who clapped him on the shoulder, Mattsun pulling him in to dig his fist into Iwaizumi’s head like a teasing older brother. “I can’t believe little Iwaizumi’s a knight!”_ _

__“Yeah, I thought you had to be at least six feet tall,” Makki drawled, quickly dodging Iwaizumi fist and laughing loudly. “We’re very proud of you. And, we can’t wait to kick your ass in training.”_ _

__Hajime felt a competitive urge rising, and raised an eyebrow. “You will never- and I can’t stress this enough- kick my ass.”_ _

__Then, the boys were pushed apart by two burned hands, and Suga popped his head through, face splitting in a blinding smile. He flung his arms around Iwaizumi and squeezed hard, causing Iwaizumi to splutter._ _

__“Suga,” he wheezed, hand on the blonde’s back._ _

__“Whoops, sorry!” Suga let go. “I’m so proud of you! You’re an actual knight now! A real knight!”_ _

__Iwaizumi couldn’t help but abruptly laugh- he was a knight. An actual, breathing, certified, appointed knight of Seijoh. It brought on another wave of emotion and he felt his eyes stink, hurriedly wiping at them. “I am.”_ _

__A hand landed on his shoulder, and Iwaizumi heard the familiar sing-song of Oikawa’s voice. “We should probably get you into training as soon as we can- you have a lot to catch up on! You’ll be going by the knight’s schedule now.”_ _

__This hadn’t actually occurred to Hajime, but Oikawa was right- now that he was officially a knight, he wouldn’t be able to be Oikawa’s personal servant anymore. The thought somewhat saddened him, and he felt a peculiar pang of loss. “Oh, yeah. You’ll have to get another servant then.”_ _

__“I bet you’ll miss being around me so much everyday,” said Oikawa, smugly._ _

__Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “I assure you, wholeheartedly, I will not miss getting up at dawn every day to wash your dirty underwear.”_ _

__Oikawa squawked, his hands on his hip. “I could exile you for that.”_ _

__Matsukawa placed a hand on his heart. “Can you exile me, too? Pretty please?”_ _

__“Me three!” Makki joined in._ _

__“Please let me keep my job,” muttered Daichi, sending a worrying gaze at Suga, who looked like he was ready to renounce his own position._ _

__Oikawa stared at them all and huffed, immediately crossing his arms. “Daichi, thank you for being the only one to show loyalty. The rest of you, go away and do whatever it is that you do. I’m going to do some paperwork.”_ _

__Matsukawa patted Hajime’s shoulder. “Come on, we should get you to the armoury, you’ll need to get yourself a shield and a sword of your own before you can train.”  
Iwaizumi sent a wistful look at Oikawa, wanting nothing more than a moment alone, but Oikawa smiled and him in a way that Hajime knew meant he understood. The brunette urged him forward, and Iwaizumi went, following Matsukawa. _ _

__

__The armoury was just as huge and cluttered as Iwaizumi remembered it; some of the older knights were sat on the benches, handing their equipment to the waiting servants ready to clean it, and the whole floor was littered with stands of shields, swords, and arrows. Most of them were dented or showed fair signs of wear, and Makki clicked his tongue._ _

__“It’ll be hard to find one that’s like new, sorry about that. Most of the knights have their own specific weaponry, so the ones in here are really just used for training, hence why they’re so…”_ _

__“Gross,” Mattsun finished for him._ _

__Iwaizumi shrugged. “I don’t really care, just get me whatever and let’s go.”_ _

__Makki chuckled and walked through the room, inspecting a row of swords, picking them up and weighing them before he plucked one, and threw it to Mattsun, who caught it easily._ _

__Hajime glared at them. “You could hurt someone doing that!”_ _

__“Relax, mama bear,” Mattsun drawled, unfazed at Hajime’s chastising. “We’re too madly co-ordinated for that- our brains are always in sync.”_ _

__“We can read each other’s thoughts.”_ _

__“It’s true, right now Makki is undressing me with his eyes,” Mattsun confirmed._ _

__Iwaizumi shook his head. “I don’t have the patience to deal with you two, just get me my stuff.”_ _

__Makki gathered the rest of the items, and they headed back to the open grassy training grounds, where various targets were set up. Iwaizumi had his hands on the sword, and twisted it through the air, feeling the weight._ _

__Matsukawa’s voice was playful, but genuine. “Okay, you do have a lot to catch up on. I know Irihata taught you the basics, but we’ll go over everything just to make sure. Remember: your stance is one of the most important things- you have to have one foot more forward than the other, with your back foot pointing off to the side, otherwise you have little stability in supporting your own body weight, and you could be pushed over easily. You have to get the distance just right, because if the gap is too wide, you rotate your hips and shoulders too much and end up limiting the use of your arms.”_ _

__Iwaizumi shifted into position, onto the balls of his feet._ _

__“Excellent, you have to be ready to move quicker than your opponent. There’s a few ways to move, and to move correctly. What you’re going to learn is called a passing step: your feet will ‘pass’ each other, and change position.”_ _

__“So the back foot steps forward to become the front, and so on!” Makki interjected._ _

__“It’s important to do this in counts of two- on one, you move your first foot, and the second one on two. Keeping your timing is important- it stops you dragging your feet, and rotating the back one too much.”_ _

__Makki leaned on his sword, lazy grin on his face. “If you rotate your back foot during a passing step, it ends up leaving too much weight on the one foot, and you grind down your ankle and knee joint.”_ _

__Iwaizumi looked between them, somewhat bewildered at the actual knowledge they’d given him- he had seen them train, but it was always goofy or playful, he’d never known that they’d retained this much information._ _

__He practiced switching his feet, losing the stiffness the more he did it. “I vaguely remember some of this from Irihata.”_ _

__“Good, it means you’ll hopefully pick it up quicker,” Issei replied. “Now the best way to move during an attack is a switch step: it not only switches the feet, but switches angles as well. Basic practice of this step involves stepping forward with the back leg and placing it parallel to the front foot, then moving the other foot behind it.”_ _

__“I’ll show you,” Makki added helpfully, settling into position to show Iwaizumi the fluid movement. “It’s great when your opponent is fast, or if you’re fighting multiple people, because you can change your range of attack up to ninety degrees.”_ _

__Matsukawa’s gaze drifted to Makki and he smiled, just a turn of the lips. Then, he faced Iwaizumi. “Holding your sword in different ways gives you different levels of defence. If you hold you sword directly in front of you, pummel to stomach, you leave your sides open. Even if you have a shield, you still have one side vulnerable. So, what you should do is hold the pummel to your hip, and angle the sword so it covers your chest diagonally.”_ _

__Iwaizumi lifted the heavy sword and held it like Issei said, already feeling the itch to get in and fight. The excitement was kicking in, but he restrained himself, acutely aware that he was getting first hand training without the duo being annoying, for once._ _

__“Holding the sword above you with the pummel resting on your shoulder, angled back, is a great stance to deliver a really powerful blow to your opponent. Hold it above the shoulder on the right with your rear foot, and you can use this along with a passing step as you advance on your opponent.”_ _

__Hanamaki lifted his sword and demonstrated the hold and positioning, holding off on the swing until Mattsun had explained more._ _

__“Hold the pummel with both hands, and keep your elbows wide,” he continued, “because you want to close your elbows back together as you swing down, as it gives you a lot more power and aim to your cut.”_ _

__Hanamaki took and step and quickly swung the sword down, fast enough that Iwaizumi felt the air blow against his cheek. He sniffed, and lifted his own sword, and swinging down like he’d seen Makki do, satisfied with the powerful stretch in his arms. He practiced it a few more times, and Mattsun whistled. “You’re a natural.”  
Iwaizumi gave a genuine smile. “Thanks. What next?”_ _

__Matsukawa talked him through more defensive poses and stances, having him hold the sword in a variety of ways until Hajime was comfortable enough to have Makki spar with him lightly. They fell into position easily and began to advance, their swords clashing against each other; Iwaizumi knew Takahiro was going a little easier on him, but he didn’t mind- it allowed him more time to think over the moves, get used to the feeling of the sword in his hand again._ _

__They practiced defence for another few hours, switching between each other so Iwaizumi could practice defending against different speeds and strengths, and by the end of it, he was covered in sweat, with his stomach rumbling._ _

__He wiped at his forehead, breathing heavily. “Let’s go again.”_ _

__Matsukawa laughed, but shook his head. “You’ve done enough for today. Your muscles will hurt a bit tonight, so stretch and have a bath, okay?”_ _

__Iwaizumi didn’t want to stop, but he knew it wasn’t fair to keep the two of them any longer when they, too, were sweaty and tired. He nodded and bowed. “Thank you.”_ _

__“Oh my god, he’s bowing!” Makki screeched delightfully. “I feel so fancy.”_ _

__Iwaizumi rose and narrowed his eyes. “That’s the only bow you’ll ever get.”_ _

__“Trust me, I won't need another one. That one will do me for years.”_ _

__Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi headed back to the armoury, placing his weapons back in their proper spots, before heading up to Oikawa’s room. He had an itch to tell him all about the training and everything he’d learned, and began to walk faster with every step until he was eventually jogging down the corridors. He pushed open the door, slightly out of breath, and saw Oikawa sitting at his table, reading papers by candlelight. The brunette looked up at the intrusion, but relaxed when he saw it was Iwaizumi, and set down his papers._ _

__“Iwa-chan,” he said happily, “come in.”_ _

__“I’ve just finished training,” he said excitedly, walking up to Oikawa’s desk, “it feels so good to be back training, those two idiots were actually really good teachers, if you can believe it.”_ _

__Tooru chuckled, and tilted his head towards the window. “I know, I was watching you for a little while. You’re very light on your feet for someone so short and awkward.”_ _

__Hajime clicked his tongue, but continued on, ignoring the King’s jab. “I wanted to keep going but they said no, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning. I’ve got to learn as much as I can, especially with this war going on.”_ _

__Oikawa’s face soured at the mention of the war, and he slumped in his seat, looking drawn and exhausted. He pushed at the papers on his desk with disgust. “I don’t even want to think about that right now. We’re at a momentary ceasefire currently since my father died, but I know it won’t hold for long. Shiratorizawa won’t give up that easily- word is they’ve already began to rally their allies.”_ _

__Hajime crossed his arms, an unsettling feeling weighing his stomach down, sucking out the joy he had felt moments before. He knew that the war couldn’t exactly be forgotten, but hearing Oikawa speak so seriously about it reminded him of just what was happening out on the fields. “When do you think they’ll start again?”_ _

__“From what I’ve heard of Ushijima Wakatoshi, he’s not one to wait around. He’s a fierce leader who would sacrifice anything to win, including his own people; nothing is ever enough to stop him.”_ _

__Iwaizumi saw the worry in Oikawa’s eyebrows, drawn together as he bit at his nails. He laid a hand on Oikawa’s face and pulled it towards his, leaning down to kiss his lips softly. “You are. Come on, you’ve been reading documents and planning strategies all day, it’s time for you to relax.”_ _

__Oikawa moaned as he was pulled from his seat, gaze wandering back to the desk. “I don't have the time…”_ _

__“You always have time for me,” Hajime said easily, smiling when Oikawa turned back around. He brushed his thumb across Oikawa’s cheek, leaning into the touch when Oikawa slid his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair._ _

__“You’re sweaty,” he murmured, wrinkling his nose._ _

__Hajime hummed in agreement._ _

__A knock on the door startled them, but Oikawa recovered and opened it, stepping aside for some pails of water to be brought in, steam rising from them. “Thank you, just sit them there.”_ _

__The servants bowed and retreated and Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t organise that.”_ _

__Tooru chuckled. “I know, I did. I thought I’d take initiative since I won’t be having you at my beck and call anymore.”_ _

__They shared a chuckle, and Hajime sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his thumb. “You’ll have to get another servant soon.”_ _

__Oikawa dipped a finger into the water, satisfied at it's temperature. “I know, I’ll make a call tomorrow for auditions.”_ _

__“You’ll need someone who can deal with all your moaning,” Hajime stated, “maybe a mother. Or someone used to helping babies. Or livestock.”_ _

__“Iwa-chan is only mean because he’ll miss me,” Oikawa said lightly._ _

__Iwaizumi didn’t even bother retaliating. “I will.”_ _

__Tooru looked up surprised, but then gave a very gentle smile. “I’ll miss you, too.”_ _

__Iwaizumi stood and began to pour the water into the tub, Oikawa kneeling across from him. “Well, you’ll be someone else’s problem soon. That is, if you can find anyone who can stand being around you a full day without pulling their hair out. I’m sure they’ll love cleaning your underwear, picking up after you, polishing your armour, sorting through your kimonos and robes, oh- and a huge good luck to them when it comes to detangling that birds nest you call hair.”_ _

__“Silly Iwa-chan, nobody does my hair but you,” Tooru replied, catching the raven’s gaze. “I might get a new servant, but that doesn’t mean I want to let go of you completely. I still want you to brush my hair, and bathe me, and read to me. Those are things only you can do.”_ _

__He was touched by Oikawa’s words, and relieved too- he’d been stressing over the thought of losing those quiet moments together, the ones of gentle intimacy, his heart desperate to cling to them. He kept his eyes averted, voice gruff with the embarrassment of speaking truthfully; he was never one to be overly open with emotions or vulnerability, and somehow telling Oikawa how he really felt made him feel like a small child. “Thank you. I...I appreciate that.”_ _

__Tooru chuckled and kissed Hajime’s forehead. “Strip.”_ _

__“Eh?”_ _

__“You’re filthy, you need a bath more than I do,” he said, pointing at the dirt smudges on Iwaizumi’s legs and arms. “Let me bathe you.”_ _

__Iwaizumi began to protest, but when Oikawa stared at him with wide eyes, something akin to desperation in them, he relented. “Okay.”_ _

__Oikawa undressed him slowly, lifting the clothes free from Hajime’s frame and letting them drop in a pile on the floor. He was quick with his fingers, very rarely letting them skim across Hajime’s tan skin. When Hajime was naked, he took his hand and nodded to the bath._ _

__Iwaizumi stepped in and sighed, immediately easing his whole body in- he had never been one for hot baths, mostly because he had never been in the position to receive one, but the heat soothed his aching muscles like nothing else, the water kissing his skin with the tenderness of a lover. He let the water rise up to his neck, closing his eyes as he sat, hearing Oikawa dip the sponge in._ _

__Oikawa took his time, lifting Hajime’s limbs one by one, scrubbing in circles until the grime and dirt of the day was lifted, and Hajimes skin was spotless again, marked only by his dark hair and the splattering of freckles. Oikawa’s face was relaxed, his movements natural, and Hajime couldn’t help but smile at the role reversal._ _

__“I’ll never get used to this,” he uttered into the silence. “This feeling of equality between us. A King should never ever wash his servant.”_ _

__“You’re my knight, now,” Tooru replied instantly, dragging the brush across Hajime’s chest._ _

__Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “He shouldn’t wash his knight either.”_ _

__“No, he shouldn’t,” the King agreed, “but he should wash his lover.”_ _

__Iwaizumi felt a deep blush darker the tips of his ears, and he dropped his gaze, crossing his arms when Oikawa gave a tinkling laugh._ _

__The brunette sat him forward to wash his hair, voice teasing. “Come now, Iwa-chan, you surely can’t be feeling embarrassed, can you? You’ve lay with me, kissed me, held me, and supported me as a lover does- how could you ever think you are anything less than my other half?”_ _

__Iwaizumi stayed silent, choosing instead to just enjoy the feeling of Oikawa’s tapering fingers in his hair, massaging in careful methodical movements, if he had done it a million times before. He scrunched his eyes closed as Oikawa washed the bubbles off, only opening them when he felt the brunette’s hand push his hair back off his face._ _

__He was met with the sight of Oikawa, basked in the dim glow of candle light, his curly hair tousled, cheeks tinted with the slightest of pinks. His lips were parted in the smallest of smiles and Iwaizumi could do nothing but stare, desperately trying to burn the image into his mind._ _

__Tooru took his hand and stood, wrapping the towel around Hajime’s body, patting it dry. He knelt to dry his legs, leaning in to place a small kiss on Iwaizumi’s sharp hip bone, chuckling when his body flinched in response._ _

__“I need one more thing from you,” Tooru murmured, wrapping the towel around Iwaizumi’s head to dry his hair._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Stay with me every night.” Tooru dropped the towel, now staring into Hajime’s eyes. “Whatever servant I get, I’ll make sure they do not arrive before you have left for training.”_ _

__Hajime bit his lip. “Oikawa, if they see us in bed together…”_ _

__“I will never let that happen,” Oikawa responded immediately, gripping the boy’s hands. “I promise you, I wouldn’t ask it if I wasn’t sure I could protect you.”_ _

__“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Iwaizumi scoffed, looking at their joined hands. “Anyone knowing about me would destroy your reputation, everything you’ve worked for...I couldn’t bare it.”_ _

__Oikawa looked crestfallen, ducking his head. “I understand.”_ _

__Hajime sighed, and kissed the top of his head. “I'll sleep with you tonight. But once you get a new servant, I can’t risk it anymore. But I promise that I’ll still come see you whenever I can throughout the day and, if you ever miss me, just look out the window.”_ _

__Oikawa enveloped the smaller boy in a hug, tucking his head neatly into Iwaizumi’s neck. “I hate how sensible you are sometimes, but thank you for indulging me.”_ _

__“I always do,” Hajime said warmly, his hand on Oikawa’s back. “Now let’s go to bed.”_ _


	25. chapter 25

A routine had been set up fairly quickly in the Oikawa castle: Oikawa would be woken by a young man named Kindaichi, who’s wild shock of hair and nervous demeanor never failed to give Oikawa amusement; fed his breakfast; and then Kindaichi would be substituted for Iwaizumi, who would bathe the prince and brush his hair. He would dress himself, and then meet with Kindaichi to hear his tasks for the day, spending most of his days stuck at his desk reading through endless documents and paperwork. 

It seemed that with every passing day, the pile got larger as more and more problems arose for Oikawa to deal with; his counsel were still unhappy with him for breaking hundreds of years worth of tradition and knighting Iwaizumi, and their stoic attitudes had left him with very little patience. Iwaizumi would spot the bags under the King’s eyes get deeper and darker with every morning that passed, and Hajime knew that now he wasn’t there at night, Oikawa would be using the time to stay up and work instead of sleeping. 

Hajime couldn’t help but think about it as he trained, grunting as he blocked yet another of Hanamaki’s swings. He knew that Oikawa was overworking himself, as he was so prone to do, but he also couldn’t blame him- with Shiratorizawa growing stronger every day, the ceasefire wouldn’t last for much longer. 

“It’s rude to not pay attention to me,” Makki sang as he jabbed at Iwaizumi, grinning when he dodged it easily. 

Fighting had become like second nature to Iwaizumi, his body moving automatically through the movements, allowing his mind to wander. He focused again and rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to. I already know what you’re going to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Well what if I do-” Hanamaki said, sudden jumping into action “- THIS!”

Iwaizumi twisted and blocked Makki’s weapon with his own, the two of them face to face as they struggled to push the other’s sword away. Iwaizumi felt his muscles scream as he gave one strong shove, and sent Makki’s sword flying across the courtyard, the tip of his own immediately held to the pale boy’s neck.

“Predictable,” Hajime teased.

The two of them laughed, and then Matsukawa waltzed over. “Oh, Iwaizumi, so confident already? Think you can handle the two of us?”

“Oh, I know I can.”

The three of them grinned, and began to fight. It was a whirlwind in a few seconds- Iwaizumi had forgotten how well Matsukawa and Hanamaki worked together, their movements coordinated and fluid in a way he hadn’t expected. But still, he focused and allowed his senses to take over, twisting his body to meet each and every blow sweating as they came faster and faster. He ducked and laughed as their swords hit each other’s, quickly rising to hit the oncoming attacks. It was more for fun than anything else, none of them actually aiming to hurt, but it was still tense and exciting, the thrill of action thumping through Iwaizumi’s veins. 

“Mind if I join you?”

They stopped at the familiar voice, Iwaizumi’s eyes widening. “Oikawa!”

“My Lord,” Makki responded, giving a quick bow with Matsukawa. “Feel free to join in and help Iwaizumi, poor fool struggling on his own.”

Iwaizumi frowned. “No I wasn’t.”

Oikawa walked over, sword already in his hands, and Matsukawa tilted his head, a curious look on his face. “It’s been a while since you’ve been down here, what’s the deal?”

“I’m bored,” Oikawa groaned, “all I’ve been doing is reading and writing, and Kindaichi’s no fun either. He doesn’t even insult me back when I say stuff to him, he just looks like he’s about to cry.”

Iwaizumi tutted as the other two laughed. “Don’t you be mean to him, he doesn’t deserve it. He’s too naive to know you’re just a jackass.”

Oikawa blew his fringe out of his face, unfazed. “He’s fine, he’s fine. Anyway, I’m dying to have some excitement, can we fight?”

Makki nodded. “You and Iwaizumi against us two?”

“Sounds great!” Tooru said with a wicked grin, drawing his sword. “I watched Iwa-chan fight you two, we’ve got this.”

“Oh, we were just going easy on him,” Makki taunted, meeting Oikawa’s eyes with mischief, “we won’t give you that courtesy this time round.”

The four of them settled into position, eyes drifting across each other’s faces, unable to deny the rising excitement in the air, so tangible Iwaizumi could feel it buzz across his skin. Then, out of nowhere, Matsukawa swings, and chaos ensues. 

The four of them begin to parry, grunting and spinning as they twist and slash through the air, the sound of their swords clashing ringing through the courtyard, drowning out everything else. Oikawa and Iwaizumi worked in tandem, their backs to each other as they circled, defending themselves against the onslaught of attacks from their friends. 

Mattsun was stronger, but Makki was quicker, and Iwaizumi was grunting at the effort it took to hold them off, his arms shaking with the strain. He looked over at Oikawa and saw nothing but pure unbridled joy- his eyes were alight, face split into a wide grin, and his movements were confident, calculated, strong. He was vibrant again, a sense of vitality and life oozing from him that Iwaizumi hadn’t seen in a long time; right there on that field, Oikawa was finally himself again. Emboldened with a new passion, Iwaizumi yelled and swung his sword, moving with a newfound strength. Mattsun struggled to hold him off, and Iwaizumi kept the blows coming, grunting as he pushed his arms through the air and knocked Matsukawa’s sword right out his hand.

Hajime grinned as Mattsun immediately held his hands up, panting heavily. 

“Alright, alright, you win,” he gasped, laughing as Makki doubled over to take in deep, heaping breaths. He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “God, I’ve never seen you fight like that before.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I had something to fight for.”

Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa’s gaze bearing into his back, but ignored it, choosing instead to pick up Matsukawa’s sword and hand it back to him.

“Well, you get full gloating rights,” Makki puffed, “that was intense!”

Oikawa shielded his sword, and flipped his hair out of his face with a smile. “Aw, you can’t give all the credit to him! Some of that has to be me.”

Hajime folded his arms with a smirk. “You wish.”

Oikawa had a dangerous glint in his eye. “ We could fight over it, if you want.”

Iwaizumi’s hand was already reaching for his sword. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The two of them pulled out their sword, ready to go, when they heard footsteps running up to them, accompanied by yelling. 

“King Oikawa, King Oikawa!” It was Ukai, his face ashen white and eyes wide. “My Lord, I must speak with you.”

“What is wrong?” Oikawa said immediately, dropping his sword, all traces of joy leaving his face. He had switched from playful to professional in a matter of seconds.

“It’s King Ushijima, sire,” gasped Ukai, voice tense with panic, “He’s been spotted by our guards making his way towards Seijoh.”

Oikawa cursed, his brows furrowed. “Has he brought his army?”

“No, he’s only brought two men with him from what we can tell,” replied the man, running a hand through his spiky blonde hair. “What are your orders?”

“Prepare the guards, just in case of an ambush,” Oikawa instructed. “I want all of the knights ready- have them stationed at the entrance to the city, all the way up to the citadel and into the palace; no door goes without a knight at it. Now!”

Ukai bowed and ran off, spreading the news. Oikawa turned, face grim. “All of you, go and get ready.”

Iwaizumi felt a sick twist in his stomach as he bowed and briskly walked away, silence ringing out between them. The three boys walked to the armoury, pulling on the heavy layers of fabric and chains, the tarnished metal reflecting the light. He’d never seen Ushijima before, and the whirlwind of worries his mind provided him with were no help- was he here to kill Oikawa? To fight him? Hajime shook his head and grunted, knowing it would do him no good to ponder over things he couldn’t possibly know. Instead, he looked over at Hanamaki, who started back at him with thin lips. The pink haired boy nodded. 

“You okay, Iwaizumi?”

Hajime pulled one of his straps tight. “I’m fine. Let’s go defend our King.”

His armour was heavy as they stood in the great hall. Oikawa was sitting on his throne, hands clasped in his lap, fingers tapping against each other nervously. His face was completely calm, but Iwaizumi knew the signs to look for: the slight draw of his eyebrows; the way his bottom lip was ever so slightly pulled at by his teeth; the almost owl-like lack of blinking, as if his only option were to stare ahead lest he miss something. Oikawa was scared. 

Ukai busted in through the doors. “He’s at the entrance of the city. He’s told the guards he’s here to talk to you- shall we let him in?”

Oikawa’s hands sat on his legs and formed into fists. He cleared his throat. “He may enter, but under the condition that he is not allowed any weapons on his person upon reaching the citadel. He must be unarmed.”

Ukai nodded and disappeared again, and the room was bathed in silence once again. Iwaizumi was to Oikawa’s right, Matsukawa at his left. Both of their swords were drawn, held carefully off to the side in preparation. Iwaizumi didn’t want to use it tonight- not seriously. He wished he could talk to Oikawa, but there was no time for that now; they had to be ready, had to be prepared for the second that Ushijima would walk through the door. Iwaizumi took a deep breath and schooled his features, knowing that displaying any signs of panic wouldn’t help Oikawa- he needed to be calm, collected, and ready to protect him no matter what happened. Hajime allowed himself the small comfort of knowing that at the worst, this would be an opportunity to show the King he would be safe with Iwaizumi at his side.

It felt like hours before Ukai walked shakily back in, his face drawn tight, skin waxy like parchment. The whole hall seemed to still as he called out in a remarkably clear voice, “Sire, I present to you Ushijima Wakatoshi, King of Shiratorizawa.”

Oikawa stood. “Thank you, Ukai. Ushijima, enter.”

Ushijima walked in, and Iwaizumi sucked in a breath: he was much taller than Hajime had anticipated, with deep tan skin not unlike his own, and thick short hair, a mix of brown and hazel. His eyes were narrow and his gaze harsh, staring at only Oikawa, uncaring of everything else in the room, and his lips were thin and pressed into a tight line. His jaw was strong, and as Iwaizumi’s gaze travelled across him, he could see that the same went for his body- he was built thick and wide, the strength of his muscles known easily even under his armour. Put simply, he was terrifying. 

He spoke with a low, monotone voice. “King Oikawa, I am King Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “I know, I was just informed.”

“I find it more polite to introduce oneself,” he answered plainly. 

This seemed to anger Oikawa. “I find it polite not to turn up where you are not invited.”

“I come here with a deal,” he said, uncaring, or perhaps unaware, of Oikawa’s hostility. “I believe it is in your best interest to hear me out.”

Tooru spat the words out, as if they were sweeties leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “What deal could you offer me?”

“An end to the war.”

Oikawa’s face paled. He looked at Ushijima, his gaze calculated, as if trying to spot a trap. He swirled the words around his mouth carefully. “An end?”

Wakatoshi nodded.

“And what do you want,” Oikawa asked clearly, with a hint of hesitation, “in return?”

Ushijima closed his eyes for a second, and when they opened, he smiled. “Your hand in marriage.”


	26. chapter 26

The words hung in the air like a bad smell, everyone silent as if trying to process what had just been said. Iwaizumi felt his own jaw slacken, knowing nothing could have prepared him to hear what Ushijima had asked for, and he looked at Oikawa, stomach twisting at the utter shock and disbelief on the King’s face. His normally dewy skin was pale, void of healthy blush, and his plump lips were open, frozen on what to say. 

When he spoke, it was quiet. “What did you just say?”

Ushijima heard it anyway. “I said I want you to marry me. Join me in matrimony, and hand Seijoh over to me- with me at it's head, it will be far more prosperous than you could ever imagine. And with you at my side, the people would have the two most powerful leaders in the world ruling them. I know your potential, Oikawa, I know that under my guidance and leadership, you would grow to gain levels of power, wealth and respect unheard of. With you as my queen- for lack of a better word- the whole world would be ours for the taking.”

Oikawa was standing in the blink of an eye, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted in a snarl, voice shrieking. “Be your queen? Hand over my Kingdom, my people, to you? Relinquish my power, and everything my father worked for- everything I worked for? You disgrace me by coming here, Ushijima.”

Oikawa walked towards him, kimono fluttering, his fists clenched at his side. Iwaizumi caught the miniscule movement from one of Ushijima’s men, a hand reaching for a sword, and moved instantly. Hajime’s sword hit the knight’s with a clash, pushing it away from Oikawa’s frame and towards the man himself. He was tall and wiry, with wide unsettling eyes and a shock of spiky red hair. He grinned at Iwaizumi, seemingly amused he had caught him in time. 

Ushijima looked at the man. “Tendou, drop your sword.”

He did, and Iwaizumi stood back also, nerves on high alert. He scowled. “You were supposed to have no weapons.”

Ushijima looked shocked. “You dare speak to me?”

Oikawa’s lip curled. “He can speak freely, especially when he speaks the truth.”

Ushijima looked disgusted, looking at Oikawa in disdain. “This is why Seijoh would benefit with me as its ruler- your staff are insubordinate, you know not of your place among them. Accept my offer, Oikawa.”

Tooru glared with a fury Iwaizumi had never seen before, his lips pulled back over his perfect teeth, baring them in an angry, violent snarl. He was a bit smaller than Ushijima, but it didn’t bother him, simply tilting his head to stare at the other’s cold green eyes as he spoke. “I will never give my people over to you. My crown will never sit upon your head. And I will never, never, marry you. I would rather die.”

Ushijima studied him, then looked disappointed, as if Oikawa were a dog that hadn’t properly learned it's trick. He pursed his lips. “I expected better of you, but if you wish to decline my offer, then so be it. I will not offer it again, and you will have to live with the consequences of your choices.”

Oikawa folded his arms. “I am not afraid of you. Get out.”

Ushijima turned, but before he reached the door, he faced the King one last time. “If you will not hand Seijoh over to me willingly, then I will simply take it. Your pride is worthless; prepare yourself, King Oikawa, for the cease fire has ended.”

Iwaizumi sat next to Oikawa on the bed, a hand on his back. Oikawa held his hands to his mouth, and hadn’t uttered a single word since Ushijima left, choosing instead to stare in silence. Iwaizumi knew he was probably drowning under the weight of his own worries, as Oikawa was often known to do, and tried his best to break through to him. 

“Oikawa,” he tried gently, rubbing his back. “Speak to me, what’s going on?”

Oikawa simply blinked. He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak, then abruptly closed it again, sighing in frustration. 

Iwaizumi tried again. “Tooru, I need you to speak to me. I need to know how I can help you.”

Oikawa’s voice was a whisper. “He wanted to marry me.”

Iwaizumi nodded, still not having fully processed the event himself. He found himself to be more baffled than angry, unbelieving of how belittling Ushijima’s offer had been, how dismissive it was of Oikawa’s character and his strength.

Then, Oikawa shouted. “He wanted to fucking marry me!”

Reaching out, Hajime grabbed Oikawa’s hand and gave him something to hold onto. 

“I can’t believe he would even request something so- so vulgar! So cheap and fake and obnoxious! Has he lost his mind? In what world would our marriage ever work? I would never hand my people over so willingly, not like this- they are mine to protect, Iwa-chan, I cannot allow a man like Ushijima to rule them.”

“He won't, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi reassured him, voice calm, if not a little gravelly. “He was a fool to come here, an utter idiot to think for a second you would ever agree.”

“I will never give up on my Kingdom,” he said, voice shaking with emotion as he held Iwaizumi’s gaze. “I don’t care how worthless my pride is, I know my journey does not end here-I will lead my people into victory, and I will do it without him.”

Iwaizumi stood, and grabbed Oikawa’s shoulders, shaking him a little. “You are, and always will be, the best leader Seijoh could ever ask for. We are behind you, always. We trust you.”

“I won’t let you down,” Oikawa whispered, gripping Iwaizumi’s wrist. 

Hajime smiled. “You never have.”

Oikawa leaned their foreheads together, breathing heavily. “I’m scared, Hajime. He’s serious about the war you know, this is it. There won’t be any chances to go back.”

“We’re not going back. We’re going to fight him, and we’re going to win.”

“It’s going to be hard.”

Iwaizumi smiled. “When have you ever turned away from a challenge?”

Oikawa met his eyes, and then a tiny smile formed on his face. “Never.”

“Exactly, so don’t start now.”

Oikawa chuckled and wrapped his arms around Hajime, pulling him close. “Hajime, if we’re going to war, I must ask you something.”

“What is it?” he said, nosing Oikawa’s neck, breathing in the comforting smell he knew so well; a mix of Oikawa’s bath oils, flowers, and something indescribably ‘Tooru’’. 

“I want you to marry me,” he murmured, voice quiet. “I don’t care how.”

Iwaizumi stepped back, his mind reeling. Was Oikawa serious? Was this some aftershock of the day’s events? He furrowed his brows. “Oikawa, you know we can’t. You just said it couldn’t be done with another King, what on earth makes you think it’d be accepted with me?”

“Please,” he said, his voice breathy. “I know wars are dangerous, and- and I know that the likelihood of everyone making it out alive is small, but I need you at my side, Hajime. I need you to be mine. I can’t do this without you. I don’t care what anyone thinks, we- we can even do it in secret!”

Iwaizumi placed his hands on Oikawa’s face, and stared at him with a stern but tender gaze. “Tooru, do not marry anyone out of fear- not even me. I will never leave you. I am yours, and I always will be. A ring won’t change that.”

Oikawa’s lip trembled. “Do you promise?”

“Of course I do,” he answered, brushing their lips together. “Don’t let today shake you, nothing has changed, Tooru. I’m always going to be right there beside you, you’re not going into this alone.”

The brunette sighed and kissed Hajime softly, nudging their noses together. He looped his hands around Iwaizumi’s neck, and began to play with the hair at the bottom of his head, twirling it around his finger. 

“You need a haircut.”

“I know.”

Silence passed between them for a long time, and Iwaizumi simply waited, knowing Oikawa would speak when he was ready to. He almost startled when the prince chose to speak, his voice no longer trembling. He looked out of the window, staring down at the courtyard. 

“Things are going to be different from now on,” he lamented quietly, “but we can deal with it. We’re strong, we can adapt.”

“So what’s next?” Iwaizumi asked. 

Oikawa tilted his head, staring at the other from the corner of his eye. He had a distant smile on his face. “We prepare.”


	27. chapter 27

Training began immediately. Oikawa wasted no time come morning, and every single one of the knights was out in the courtyard; they slashed at flour filled dummies, shot arrows into targets, and danced around each other, swords clanging loudly as they fought. It was a disarray of noise, sweat and dirt, and Iwaizumi revelled in it.

He was lying on a bench, his shirt off, and was holding a long pole with multiple bags of rice tied to each end, and as he pushed it, his arms straining, he felt beads of sweat make their way down his neck. He was getting stronger every day, his body vastly different from what it used to be- ropey muscles had replaced his skinny arms and his shoulders were broad and toned, his back rippling with muscles he didn’t even know he had. His core had strengthened with every round of stretches he’d done each day, and his thighs were no longer slender, but were thick and powerful. Put simply, his body was now made to fight, and he adored it. 

He grunted as he bent his arms and brought the pole down, feeling his muscles shake with the effort of holding it in place, and then pushed it back up, right into the hands of Matsukawa. 

He was smiling, but his face was drawn. “Mind if I train for a bit?”

Iwaizumi sat up. “Sure. I needed to visit some of the new recruits anyway.”

Iwaizumi walked over to the unsure and unsteady group of boys that had arrived this morning; news had spread about Ushijima’s visit, and to Oikawa’s surprise whole groups of men and boys had shown up at the palace doors, begging for a chance to train and serve Seijoh. Oikawa had allowed it, much to the chagrin of the council, and so here they were, holding a variety of weapons. Iwaizumi looked over them all: they were a strange mix, some old and some young, and he cleared his throat. 

“What’s your names?”

A tall boy with bleached hair and a scowl spoke up first. “Kyoutani. When do we get to fight?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “Soon, if you play your cards right. What’s your weapon of choice, Kyoutani?”

“Mace.”

Hajime whistled. “Okay, that’s different, but good. We need as much variety and skill as possible- it’s highly likely that if you fight someone with a sword, they won’t have been trained in how to counter mace attacks specifically, so you could have some leeway. Come up here, fight me.”

Kyoutani looked excited as he walked up, scowl somehow darkening despite his smile as he picked up a mace from a nearby tray of weapons. He held it about in his hands for a few moments, before charging. 

Iwaizumi grabbed a sword and blocked it, grinning as he realised the strength of the young boy. He looked a few years younger than Iwaizumi, but it was hard to tell with his face so scrunched up. He fought well, and as Hajime countered his attacks and began to advance, he saw how the boy began to get flustered. In one quick flick of his sword, the boy was on his ass on the ground, mace at his side. Hajime held out his hand and helped Kyoutani up. He patted him on the back quickly and they faced the group. 

“Kyoutani fought well, but you can see the areas where he needs work- his offence is strong, but wild. He needs to learn how to take that energy and channel it into specific moves instead of just aiming to hit. That wildness allowed me to see his weak points and take advantage of them.”

The seemed to drink in his words, and he sent Kyoutani off to the group. “Who’s next?”

“I am,” said a young fresh faced boy with pale blonde hair and round brown eyes, “My name’s Shirabu.”

“Weapon of choice?”

He smiled. “Bow and arrow.”

Without hesitation, Shirabu lifted his arm, showing his own bow off. He cracked his neck, and stared around for a target. He looked at Kyoutani. “You brave?”

“Of course.”

Shirabu reached into his pocket and took out an apple. He chucked it at the boy. “Walk over to the other end of the field, and place that on your head. Then, don’t move.”

Iwaizumi grimaced. “Shirabu, are you sure?”

“Yes, Iwaizumi-san. I’ve been learning the bow since I was a child, I can hit any target.”

Kyoutani, looking intrigued, walked away and put the apple on his head. He was just far away enough for the apple to be a little blurry, and Shirabu closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Okay,” he said, opening his eyes and aligning his bow. He plucked an arrow out of the case on his back, and closed one eye, lining it up perfectly. He held it for a few seconds, getting the placement right, and then drew back carefully. Iwaizumi watched with bated breath, knowing the trouble he would be in if he accidentally allowed the murder of one of the new recruits.

Then, Shirabu let the arrow fly, and in a single second it had sliced through the air, and right through the middle of the apple, now pinning it to a tree trunk in the distance. Kyoutani ran a hand through his hair in shock, seemingly surprised at the lack of blood, and then shoved his fist in the air in triumph. 

The group clapped wildly, and Hajime let out a sigh of relief. He clapped Shirabu on the shoulder and gave a weak smile. “That was really impressive! It’s really useful to have archers like you in our army- you can be stationed in hidden places, and can help take out the enemy without being seen. I want you to take over teaching people archery after this.”

Shirabu bowed respectfully and moved back into line, immediately being followed by Kyoutani, who stared at him with intense eyes. It was a little creepy, but Iwaizumi moved on. “Okay, anyone else?”

He spent most of the morning like that, talking them all through the steps Matsukawa had taught him when he first began learning. Sugawara came out every few hours with trays of snacks for them all, and he occasionally saw Daichi, grooming and prepping all the horses. He appeared to be moving them, and as he walked by with another horse, Hajime stopped him. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Moving the horses, we have to make room for the others,” he replied, a hand on his hip. “Oikawa’s contacted the allianced kingdoms, so they’ll all be here over the next few days, and they’ll be bringing a whole lot of horses.”

Iwaizumi frowned. “There’s not enough room…”

“Takeda, Saeko and I will be building temporary shelter for them out by the pastures,” he explained, looking tired at the thought, “So hopefully, if some of the townspeople also offer up their barns, we’ll be able to house most of them, if not all.”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi nodded, then lifted a hand in apology. “Sorry for bothering you, then.”

“No bother at all,” he said cheerily, and then he was off again. 

Iwaizumi held his hand to his mouth, thinking- who even was Seijoh allianced with? If he remembered correctly, it was Nekoma, Karasuno, and a small, squared off Kingdom called Dateko. He’d never seen any of them step foot in Seijoh before, but before he could think about it too much, Makki called on him to demonstrate some techniques, and he lost his train of thought. 

It was four days later when the other Kingdoms began to arrive. First of all was a tall man with a mess of black hair and a shit-eating grin, who’s heavy lidded eyes screamed mischief. He was dressed in a fiery red kimono with Black slacks and a black obi, adorned with a red fire lily and red glistening beads. By his side was a much smaller, slender man, dressed in a light, flowy kimono of a similar colour pallet, not unlike the feminine ones Oikawa was prone to wearing. His long butterscotch hair hid his face, but Iwaizumi could see two very large cat like eyes peering out in wariness. 

Oikawa grinned widely, and walked up to the man with arms open. “Kuroo Tetsurou!”

“Oikawa Tooru,” he replied, and the two shared a brief hug. “Thank you for inviting us here.”

“Ah, I wish it was under better circumstances,” Oikawa said idly, waving his hand, “but still- the Kingdom of Seijoh welcomes the people of Nekoma with open arms.”

Kuroo tilted his head and smiled, then gestured to the people beside him. He pointed to the small blonde man first. “This is Kozume Kenma, my consort.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in shock- they were together? Was that allowed?

Kuroo caught his eye and gave a devilish smirk before moving on. “That small one there with the sandy hair is surprisingly my army general, Yaku Morisuke, and those two there next to him are Haiba Lev and Yamamoto Taketora. The rest of my soldiers are with yours, in the training grounds.”

Oikawa gave a blinding smile, meeting the eyes of all the men. “Charmed to meet you all, it is such a pleasure to finally come face to face with the elusive Nekoma brood. Ukai, please show Kuroo-kun and Kozume-kun to their room, please- I’m sure they’re tired from the day’s travel. Feel free to freshen up and get comfortable. Everyone else, your rooms will be shown to you after training. Lunch will be in two hours.”

After bowing respectfully and going about their ways, Iwaizumi saddled up next to Oikawa, speaking in a hushed whisper. “They’re together? Like, together?”

Oikawa’s lips quirked ever so slightly. “I have heard so, but that has proven it. King Kuroo is apparently very protective over Kozume- he is so adored that nobody dares speak out about it.”

Iwaizumi thought about how uneasy Kuroo’s eyes made him, and suppressed a shiver. “I don’t think that’s the only thing keeping their mouths shut.”

Oikawa gave a small snicker and tutted. “Iwa-chan, you should know better! Besides, doesn’t it give you hope?”

“Hope? About what?”

Oikawa looked at him with a gentle smile. “That the same will happen for us one day.”

“Oikawa-”

“I’ll marry you, Iwa-chan,” he said lightly, as if it were nothing. “Even if I have to wait a hundred years for it.”

Feeling both flattered and annoyed, Iwaizumi did the only thing he could think of, and punched Oikawa in the shoulder before storming off. He heard the King’s squawk and knew that he’d pay for it later, but at that moment, he didn’t care, and decided to train instead.

The nekoma men were skilled fighters; although not particularly offensive, they were incredibly good at defending, and every single hit was met by a block. It was near impossible to break through or find a weak link to go for, and Iwaizumi found himself feeling both frustrated and in awe as he continued to fight against Yaku, assuming he should have bet the smaller man minutes ago. But Yaku was quick and smart, he showed no signs of fatigue as they battled, his defense strong enough to match Iwaizumi’s efforts. 

A boy that Iwaizumi remembered to be called Lev bounded over, a huge smile on his face. “Wow, Yaku-san! You’re doing so good!”

“Damnit, Lev, shouldn’t you be fighting?”

Lev rubbed his head. “I hit my head off a tree branch. I think it’s bleeding. Anyway, how are you doing?”

Yaku sighed and put his sword and shield down, turning to face Lev with a blank face. “Show me your head.”

Lev bent down low enough for Yaku to briefly check him over. “Am I bleeding?”

Yaku whacked him on the back of the head lightly. “No! But you will be if you interrupt me again.”

Iwaizumi looked at Lev and squinted. “How tall are you?”

Lev beamed, “almost six foot six!”

“Holy shit,” Iwaizumi mumbled, “no wonder you hit your head.”

“I hit my head off a lot of things. Branches, doors, signs, really anything low hanging-”

Yaku dragged a hand down his face. “Lev, if you don’t need anything, please for the love of god, go away.”

“Yes, Yaku-san!” he said happily, bounding back to the other boys. 

Iwaizumi watched him go, then tilted his head. “He’s...different.”

“He’s an idiot,” Yaku said with an eye roll, “but he’s not half bad in battle. He has the drive, the height and the potential for such strength, but unfortunately, he can’t seem to get all three at the same time. He’s more like a giant baby deer.”

“A giant baby deer with a sword,” Hajime remarked. 

Yaku’s lips quirked. “He’s not bad, really. He tries the hardest out of all of them. If every soldier had the attitude Lev does, we’d never have a bad day.”

Hajime laughed. “I can see that. Say, what’s your King like?”

“Quite frankly,” Yaku said with a cocked hip, “an absolute fool.”

“Oh, really?”

“At risk of being killed for treason, the man is essentially a very large child,” Yaku said blandly. “He plays pranks, and messes around a lot- it’s very rare to see him act like an actual King.”

“But when he does?”

Yaku smiled slightly. “He’s rather terrifying. For all he plays the fool, he’s incredibly smart. He’s very skilled at knowing what others are thinking - like enemy plans, and whatnot. He observes everyone, all the time, and studies them. He’s very loyal to the people, and likes the idea of us all being connected; to him, the Kingdom is nothing without its people- they’re the heart that keep the blood pumping.”

Iwaizumi considered this and nodded carefully, thinking of his own childish King. “I know exactly what you mean. What about Kozume-san?”

“He prefers to be called Kenma,” Yaku replied easily, “and he’s the complete opposite to King Kuroo. He’s very timid and shy, and doesn’t really like being in the limelight. He doesn’t speak often, and hates any form of conflict. I’m sure the King would have left him at home if he believed it was safer, but he always feels that Kenma is safest with him.”

“How long have they…” Iwaizumi struggled for the words. “When did they first-”

“Six years ago,” he answered. “It’s something that, although...unorthodox, nobody really says anything about. Nekoma is a kingdom of the future, you know? We care not for tradition or routine- we must always be moving, growing, changing. Something that stays the same can become predictable.”

Iwaizumi thought over the words for a few minutes, imagining what it would be like if Seijoh were similar. Already Oikawa was breaking the mold, having knighted Iwaizumi, and the knight knew that if Oikawa had it his way, they would be married by morning, too. He sighed. 

“I don’t think Seijoh is ready for that just yet,” he murmured. 

“Seijoh isn't ready, or you’re not ready?” Yaku questioned, before turning away and walking back to his men, leaving Iwaizumi standing there ten times more confused than he was to begin with. 

The Karasuno Kingdom arrived at lunchtime. They were a large bunch, larger than Nekoma for sure, and Iwaizumi saw Oikawa’s strained smile as they all came bundling in loudly, knocking things over as they struggled to get themselves in a line. They were all wearing similar kimonos, a beautiful summer orange with black obi belts and black lining, adorned with ropes and tassels. Their king was young, younger than Oikawa, with long black hair and a permanent scowl. His eyes were a deep blue, and they stared at Oikawa so intensely the brunette began to shuffle.

“Ahem,” Oikawa began, giving a weak smile, “Welcome to the Kingdom of Seijoh. King Kageyama, it is...a pleasure to finally meet you. You are younger than I expected.”

“My father died,” he stated. 

Oikawa cleared his throat, unsure how to work his charm on someone so brazenly...awkward. He tried anyway. “Yes, I assumed so. Mine, too, obviously. Please, introduce me to your people.”

Kageyama turned to a small boy with hair as bright as his Kimono, who was struggling to retain his excitement, bouncing on the spot. “This is Hinata Shoyo.”

“I’m his personal servant!” he said happily, without being asked. “I’m also his bodyguard!”

Kageyama whacked him on the head. “Dumbass, no you’re not! Stop telling people that!”

Hinata rubbed at his head and whined, scowling at the King. “I could be.”

A tall blonde boy sighed, looking disinterested. He caught Kageyama’s attention, and the young king spluttered, trying to speak again. “And, uh, that there’s Tanaka and Nishinoya, those are my best knights. The tall one is Asahi- he’s the army general. The blonde one is Tsukishima, he’s the army strategist, and the freckled one next to him is Yamaguchi. He’s the cook.” 

Oikawa’s delicate eyebrow raised. “You brought your own cook?”

Kageyama shrugged. “His food is better than yours.”

Oikawa gave a strained smile. “You haven’t even tried ours yet!”

“I don’t need to, I have Yamaguchi’s,” he said again, as if Oikawa were stupid. 

Hinata joined in. “Yamaguchi’s food is good, you’ll have to try it!”

Tsukishima shook his head in desperation, his quiet voice barely heard. “Dear God, kill me.”

“Sire, do you know of Tanaka Saeko?!” Yelled Tanaka, out of turn. His wide eyes were incredibly focused, and even though he was standing still, his frame was shaking, as if he were full of unreleased energy.

“Yes,” replied Oikawa, a delicate eyebrow raised. As understanding as he was, Oikawa still expected a fair amount of respect from those speaking to him- Iwaizumi could see his shock and frustration bubbling under the surface. “She works in the stables. Am I to assume you are related?”

“She’s my sister! Can I go see her? Where is she? Can Yuu come?”

Oikawa, looking utterly baffled and slightly annoyed, shook his head and just waved his hand. “Do what you please. Yamaguchi, you will be shown to the kitchens. Look for a boy named Sugawara, he’s sure to make you feel right at home. The rest of the soldiers may head out to the fields now to join in with the training. Lunch is being served right now, but-”

“Lunch,” said Kageyama and Hinata in unison, already heading out of the room before Oikawa had finished his sentence. 

Tooru leaned next to Iwaizumi, voice strained. “Am I going crazy, or did that little ass really just walk out on me?”

Iwaizumi stifled a smile. “It seems he cared more about the food, sire.”

“Don’t you ‘sire’ me,” he grumbled, turning back to the rest of the men with a sulking face. “Anyway, you lot can go and train with the rest.”

When the men apologised and walked away, Iwaizumi saw that there was a very small women standing off to the side, with pale blonde hair to her chin, and big soft eyes, blinking timidly like a deer. Iwaizumi nudged Oikawa. 

“Oh!” he called out, having not seen her. “I’m terribly sorry, please forgive me for not noticing you. What’s your name?”

She squeaked at being addressed, and hurried to the front of his throne, dropping to her knees in a bow so low her nose touched the floor. “I-I’m Yachi Hitoka, my Lord! I’m a servant to King Kageyama.”

Iwaizumi smiled. “Hitoka is my mother’s name. It’s a beautiful name.”

She blushed furiously and bowed again. “Thank you, sir.”

Oikawa looked at her in delight. “You’re simply wonderful, Yachi-kun! Just adorable- but doesn’t King Kageyama have a servant? The red headed one?”

Yachi gave a pained smile. “Shoyo is lovely, but he’s a tornado. He messes up a lot, so I’m the back-up servant to make sure the things he’s tasked with doing actually get done, with minimal casualties.”

Oikawa chuckled and clapped his hands. “Well, Yachi-kun, feel free to roam around the palace as you wish. Servants quarters are located in the western wing, if you should like to rest for a bit. Please, go and help yourself to some lunch if you are hungry, we cannot have someone as beautiful as you be starved, now can we?”

She squealed again and hurried off, almost tripping in her haste.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to embarrass her like that.”

“But, Iwa-chan, she’s so cute!” He whined, “I want to keep her.”

“Jesus, Oikawa, she’s not a dog.”

“I know that,” he said with exasperation, “she’s much more like a hamster.”

For the second time that day, Iwaizumi found that punching Oikawa was the best way to deal with him saying stupid stuff. 

Later that evening, the Kings sat around a wide table, with Oikawa at its head. He stared at them all, and although his smile was sweet, there was palpable tension in the room. The table was lined with scrolls and maps, and even a few scrolls of messy notes Oikawa had taken himself. Iwaizumi stood behind the King, staring straight ahead- technically he shouldn’t have been allowed in the room, being only a knight, but it seems he wasn’t the only one that had decided to tag along; Kenma sat on Kuroo’s lap, his head tucked into the other’s neck, avoiding the gaze of everyone else. It was sweet almost, how calmly he sat, as if that were the only place he belonged. Hajime imagined himself sitting on Oikawa’s knee, and got so irrationally angry his face turned bright red. 

“Iwa-chan, are you okay?” Oikawa whispered as the men talked among themselves. 

Iwaizumi didn’t have it in him to admit why he was so flustered, so he simply forced out his reply. “I’m fine. Carry on.”

Oikawa shook his head and turned back to the table, clearing his throat. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming here today. It is pleasant to finally see the faces that rule such fine Kingdoms- and a pleasure to have you all fighting alongside Seijoh.”

They all smiled, bar Kageyama, who looked more interested in pulling thread from his kimono sleeve. 

“Anyway,” Oikawa began, “the reason I have called you here is because Ushijima has ended the ceasefire, and Seijoh needs all the help it can get.”

“I know he called for one after your father died,” drawled Kuroo, “so why didn’t he end it sooner? It seemed a kindness to leave you with so much time to prepare.”

Oikawa looked uncomfortable, and swallowed audibly. Iwaizumi wished he could place a hand on the King’s back as reassurance, but didn’t dare. “Ushijima visited the city earlier. He said the war would be called off if I made a deal with him.”

“What was this deal?” Kageyama asked. “I would have taken the deal, seems a lot easier.”

“Then you are as foolish as you are sour faced,” Oikawa snipped quickly. “He wanted my hand in marriage, and for me to sign all my power and my Kingdom over to him. Seijoh would cease to exist, and Shiratorizawa would only grow.”

Kuroo’s expression darkened and he pursed his lips, long elegant fingers tapping on the table. “He doesn’t ask for much does he?”

“I refuse to hand my people over to a tyrant like him,” Oikawa said simply. “He cares not for the nuances of running a Kingdom- he is too black and white. Everything is either right or wrong, and there is no space for the inbetween. Apparently, I choose the wrong choice.”

Kageyama looked at him. “So you called upon us to fight for you?”

“Not just for me,” Tooru corrected, worry lines creasing at his mouth, “I need you to fight to save yourselves. He plans to take over all the neighbouring Kingdoms that he can, until every bit of land in Japan belongs to him. He won’t stop until he is stopped, and he’ll do anything to get it.”

“His father was power hungry,” Kuroo mumbled, sifting through the notes absentmindedly, “I remember he tried something similar many years ago. He got quite close to it, too.”

“We can’t let him get close this time, from what I’ve read and heard, he is an extremely formidable opponent. He knows no mercy, and won’t spare anyone who goes against him,” Tooru explained quietly, reaching for some of the scrolls. “He took out quite a large number of Seijoh’s soldiers already. I’ve been reading everything I can about him and his battles, trying to learn his fighting style and techniques- he’s straightforward, with strong attack and equally strong defense.”

“Sounds unbeatable,” Kageyama frowned. 

Kuroo clicked his tongue. “Now that’s no way for a King to speak. You can’t give up so quickly- don’t you want a challenge? I’ve seen you fight, I know how good you are.”

Kageyama seemed to perk up at this, his eyes shining. “Can we practice outside later? I haven’t been able to practice since my father died, it's been so much paperwork all the time. On my last free day I had to sort out a dispute between two of my people and their shared land, it sucked.”

Kuroo smirked. “Sure, but you’d be better fighting Oikawa. He’s phenomenal, and your skill set is very similar. I bet you could learn a lot from him.”

Kageyama stared at the King with hope on his face, looking excited. “Are you really?”

Tooru spoke modestly. “I don’t know about ‘phenomenal’.”

Iwaizumi tutted. “King Kageyama, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but King Oikawa truly is phenomenal on the battlefield. He has been training every single day since he was three years old, and I assure you that you will find nobody who’s speed, accuracy, power and strength are matched to his.”

Looking at Iwaizumi in shock, Oikawa spluttered slightly. “Iwa-chan…”

Kageyama slammed a hand on the table, leaning forward eagerly. It was the most emotion Iwaizumi had seen his display since he arrived. “Listen, I know I’m good. The battlefield is where I belong, but I know I can do better. Teach me everything you know.”

“Why should I do that?”

“I want to surpass you,” Tobio grinned, eyes alight, “and be the best warrior in all of Japan. Only you can help me do that.”

The King narrowed his eyes at the young boy, his teeth gritted in a tight, controlled smile that bordered more on a grimace. “Help you become better than me? As if you could achieve that in a few days! It took me years of practice to get where I am, don’t insult me.”

Kuroo snickered with a cheshire cat grin. “You two are like cats and dogs! He has a point, Kageyama- Oikawa’s skills have been noted throughout various Kingdoms- he’s a formidable opponent. It’ll take a lot of practice and time before you’ll surpass him.” 

Oikawa smiled at the praise, but narrowed his eyes. “How do you know so much about me?”

Iwaizumi answered. “He studies people. He notes down their actions, idiosyncrasies, skills and behaviours...keeps it all logged away in his brain.”

Kuroo cackled loudly, a horrible rash sound. “And how do you know that?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I talked to Yaku.”

“Ah, that makes sense. What else did he say about me?”

“Promise you won't exile him?”

“Damn,” Kuroo said in astonishment, “is it really that bad? Alright then, keep your secrets. It’s more fun not knowing anyway.”

“You guys are kinda weird,” Tobio said, picking at his nails. “But I do want to fight. Can I fight with you, King Oikawa?”

Tooru looked at him with something akin to disdain, then nodded and sighed. “Sure.”

Kenma lifted his head, peering out from Kuroo’s chest. His voice was melodic and sweet, and it calmed Iwaizumi instantly. “What about Dateko?”

Iwaizumi watched at Kuroo tucked Kenma’s head back under his chin, and began to trace random patterns on the other’s back. It seemed natural, the way his hand moved, as if it gravitated towards Kenma of its own accord. 

Tooru pushed a scroll towards the raven. “Dateko are a pacifist people, and refuse to fight. However, they do not wish for violence, and so they have agreed that they will act as our defense- let us know when Shiratorizawa are on the move, set up traps and what not. They’ll also supply us with weaponry, since they’re prosperous in the trade industry.”

“Why don’t they fight?” Kageyama asked with a frown, suddenly interested again. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea to be part of a kingdom that won’t fight for itself.”

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair, making it even more wild. “Dateko’s King, Moniwa Kaname, was inured in their last major battle. He’s never fully recovered from it, and...suffered mentally from the experience. Any threat of violence sends him into fits they struggle to save him from. Futakuchi Kenji is his carer, and technically who makes most of the major decisions, but he abides by the King’s wishes for a peaceful life.”

“So it’s just us then?” Kageyama asked, tilting his head. His silky black hair glinted under the candle light, so soft it looked like flowing water. Iwaizumi noticed that when he wasn’t scowling, he was a rather pretty boy. 

“Yes, but I’m not worried, I think we’re evenly matched,” Oikawa said, opening a new scroll. This is who I assume Shiratorizawa have summoned: a small but powerful kingdom called Jozenji, and the moderately large kingdom of Fukurodani.”

Kuroo’s face paled, and the grin slid off his face. “Fukurodani?”

“Yes,” Oikawa replied, still looking at the sheet. “From what I’ve read, they’re fairly powerful, but have a very emotional and finicky leader- their King is very prone to impulsiveness and mood swings.”

“I know,” Tetsurou uttered quietly, standing with Kenma held in his arms. “His name is Bokuto Koutarou. He’s my best friend. I think I’d like to retire now, I’ll speak to you all in the morning."

After Kuroo left, Oikawa’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He dismissed Kageyama, and turned to Iwaizumi, looking very tired and worn. “What do we do?”

“Nothing,” he murmured back, pulling Tooru into a tight hug. “War is never easy, Tooru, but you’re doing the best you can. Kuroo will have to come to terms with fighting Fukurodani on his own- nothing you say is going to change that. You’ve done all you can do.”

“I’m scared, Hajime,” he said honestly, with such clarity and truth it sounded as if it were straight from the mouth of a child. 

Iwaizumi kissed the top of his head. “I know, but it’s okay to be scared. In fact, it’s a good thing. Now come on and get some food, and then I’ll draw you a bath. I’ll even tell Kindaichi to take the rest of the day off, and tonight will be just for us, okay?”

Pale pink lips press against his in haste. “Thank you.”

Hajime simply kissed him in return, a quick brush of lips. Even if he had no idea what lied ahead, of the struggles and loss they both would face in the coming weeks, he took comfort that at least there, that night, he could revel in the sound of Oikawa’s heart beating next to his.


	28. chapter 28

A week later, Dateko brought news that Shiratorizawa were on the move. Within minutes of receiving the information, Oikawa had carriages filled with supplies, overflowing with tents, bedding, food, water and even medical pastes and bandages. The horses were already harnessed, their saddles full with whatever they could carry, and many of them had boxes or fabrics lain over their backs. The whole palace was a chaotic mess, with everyone running and a variety of voices mingling together so loudly it was impossible to hear yourself speak. 

The knights had been training with each other for the better part of twelve hours every day, and Iwaizumi was satisfied that, despite the short amount of time, the improvements had been incredible- not only had he himself learned from Nekoma’s defense and Karasuno’s strategy, the young volunteer knights had picked up the basic skills with speed and ease. Kyoutani was still wild when attacking, but had learned some patience and perseverance from Yahaba, who he had been following around since day one.

Even Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who he felt like he hadn’t seen or spoken to in days, seemed to be feeling the same way. Oikawa himself had been down in the training grounds, fighting with Kuroo mostly. He had fought a few times with Kageyama, and the young boy had surprised them both with how well matched he was; although no where near Oikawa’s level, he definitely had the skill to fight against him, and his style was remarkably close to the brunette’s. Iwaizumi could see how, within a year or two, Kageyama would be on the same level as Oikawa. But now, their fighting was cut short as everyone prepared.

Matsukawa was packing up his armour and weaponry next to Hajime. “Are you scared?”

“A little.”

Matsukawa gave a lazy smile. “Good. I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m a little scared, too, but I think I’m ready.”

How could someone ever be ready for war?

The question must have shown on his face, because Matsukawa laughed. “When it gets really scary, I just remind myself that I’m not out there alone; I have Hanamaki, who’s sure as hell going to be at my side, and then I feel better. It’s always calming to know that I’ll be able to look, and see the face of a friend.”

“You’re not worried? About…?”

Mattsun smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nah. Makki can’t die. It’s biologically impossible.”

Realising that Mattsun didn’t want to press the subject anymore, Iwaizumi kept quiet, and finished packing his stuff. He patted his friend on the back and walked out towards the stables, where Oikawa was organising the packing. 

“Hey,” he said, coming up behind the King. 

Oikawa flashed him a small smile. “Hey. How you holding up?”

“Fine. You?”

“About to shit my pants, to be honest.”

Hajime snickered and nudged Oikawa’s arm. “Shut up, you’ll be fine. When are we leaving?”

“As soon as possible,” he replied, looking over all the horses. 

The carts were all filled, and each saddle had bags of food attached. Suga ran out with the last two and tied them on, his face flushed red. “That’s all the food prepared, sire!”

“Thankyou, Suga-kun,” he replied softly, bowing his head at the servant. “Your efforts are greatly appreciated.”

As Suga bowed again, Daichi walked up, looking nervous. He took a deep breath, and met Oikawa’s gaze, voice loud and wavering only slightly. “Sire! I would like permission to come along to battle! Even if you will not let me fight, I can tend to the horses should they become injured. Please, it would be an honour to fight for Seijoh.”

Tooru placed a hand gently on Daichi’s shoulder, and nodded. “Of course you may come along, Dai-san. I personally thank you for your loyalty and bravery.”

Suga’s mouth fell open in shock, and he spluttered. “Daichi, what the-? Oh, damnit, Sire, can I please come along, too? I cannot fight but I am very proficient as a physician! I know my herbs and would be happy to work in the medical bay.”

Despite the intense glare Suga was shooting Daichi, Oikawa nodded, his lips in the ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Suga-kun. We need as much help as we can get.”

As Suga grabbed Daichi’s ear and stormed off, dragging the taller man behind him, Iwaizumi allowed himself a chuckle. 

“How much trouble do you think he’s in?”

Oikawa laughed. “Well, I don't think Ushijima is the one he has to worry about anymore.”

“It’s sweet that he immediately joined in, though,” Hajime added. “If I were him, I’d have just punched Daichi straight away.”

“Iwa-chan, your response to any situation is punching someone,” Tooru replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“It’s never failed me before.”

Tooru smiled, but it ended when he heard footsteps behind them. They turned and saw Kuroo, with Kenma at his side, their fingers interlocked. Kuroo looked at the carriages through heavy lidded eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept the night before, and Iwaizumi felt a pang of sympathy: going off to kill strangers was bad enough on its own, but having to fight your own friends was simply cruel. He imagined what it would be like if he had to kill Matsukawa, or if he found himself face to face with Oikawa on the battlefield, and his whole body seemed to reject the idea, his stomach twisting and his chest tightening. 

“What carriage is ours?”

Oikawa pointed a slender finger to one wordlessly. Kuroo nodded and set off, lifting Kenma in first before climbing in himself. 

“I hope he’s okay,” Hajime murmured, watching the carriage. 

“Me, too,” sighed Oikawa. 

“It can’t be easy going against your best friend,” he commented quietly, “but war is never easy. I’m sure he knows that, and is still willing to fight.”

“Tetsurou adores his people- he would never jeopardize their safety by refusing to fight,” Tooru replied. His voice was confident, but Iwaizumi could catch the smallest trace of worry laced through it, knowing that Oikawa was trying to convince himself as much as he was Iwaizumi. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Iwaizumi let his fingers skim across Oikawa’s, their pinkies interlocking for just a second. It was a miniscule touch, but already he felt some relief from the aches that plagued his body. “Is everyone else ready to go?”

“Karasuno are running a bit late,” Oikawa said, nodding towards the three carriages that had been prepared for the rowdy group. Yachi, Asahi, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were the only ones standing by the carriage, all of them holding hefty bags. “What kind of King is late for something this important?”

“He’s young, leave him alone,” Iwaizumi chastised with no real anger. “I think he really hates being King.”

Tooru gave an elegant laugh. “Of course he does! Nobody likes it.”

“I think you should talk to him.” Hajime picked at his nail. 

Spluttering audibly, Tooru stared at him as if he had just grown a new head, his eyes wide and face distorted in such disgust that Hajime couldn’t help but smile. “Are you serious, Iwa-chan? He’s the worst! He’s grumpy, and angry, and acts like an impatient child. He’s absolutely insufferable to be around- I hate being around him, it’s like I can tell all he’s focused on is surpassing me, when he should be focusing on training his men. I have to time for someone who can’t even take his duties seriously.”

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow and stared at the other until he began to squirm. “I remember when you were like that. Mostly because it wasn’t that long ago. You had me there to help you through those times- Kageyama could have nobody. Remember, he’s just a kid. One who looks up to you a lot.”

Oikawa scoffed and folded his arms, sulking. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Hajime hummed, and looked around, surveying everything. It felt surreal to stand there, watching over the palace, wondering if this was the last time he’s ever see it again. He had tried not to think about the possibility, but some part of him wouldn’t let the thought escape; it creeped up on him in the dead of night, a quiet but persistent voice that needed to be heard. 

He looked over at the stables, remembering all the times he’d sat with Daichi, the two of them laughing as they clipped the horses’ nails side by side, and he felt a pang in his chest- was he really ready to risk it all? He’d grown up here in this castle, spent almost every day of his youth here, running through the gardens and sneakily meeting with Oikawa. 

Oikawa. 

Hajime looked at Tooru’s profile, the pang in his chest resonating like a lone note in an empty hall. Oikawa stared straight ahead, a faraway gaze in his eyes, and the weak sun moved across his face slowly, painting him like a sunset. His warm chestnut hair was carried by a gentle breeze, swaying just the slightest, and once again Hajime was struck by what a work of art Tooru was: everything about him flowed, from the straight line of his nose into the curve of his open lips, all the way down to the sharpness of his jaw, the arch of his neck. Hajime felt foolish even wondering if it was worth it- he was fighting for Tooru. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t risk to keep him safe. 

Oikawa faced him, seemingly oblivious to Hajime’s staring. He tilted his head, and blinked slowly. “Are you ready?”

Hajime held his hand. “Let’s go.”


	29. chapter 29

They reached their destination after three days of travelling. Oikawa had insisted on leading the battle away from the Kingdom, wanting to ensure the safety of his people as best he could, uncaring of the fact they were closer to Shiratorizawa territory. 

“They’ll come for us no matter where we are,” he had said, sipping a small cup of tea, “so why bother hiding?”

They had made camp in a large endless field, pitching up makeshift tents to reside in. The biggest tent was for the medical bay, which Oikawa had made sure was a priority. It was stocked neatly with blankets, bandages, and bags upon bags of herbs and salves, and whatever else the King could get his hands on, ready for the first unfortunate souls who would need it. 

The second biggest tent was Oikawa’s. It was complete with a small table, a teapot, and a futon, and it was lit by gentle candlelight which glinted off their discarded armour. He and Tooru sat on the futon, thighs pressed together, the curtain of the tent drawn closed to shut off the outside world to them. It was a relaxed atmosphere, despite the rumbling of footsteps and muffled voices from outside, and Hajime picked up Oikawa’s hand, rubbing it with thumb. 

“Everything will be okay, you know.”

Tooru gave a meek laugh. “You don’t know that.”

“I know you,” he countered, bringing the hand to his mouth for a kiss. “That’s enough for me.”

Oikawa tried to smile, but his lips quivered instead, and he looked away. “You have so much faith in me, but what if I disappoint you?”

“You have never disappointed me,” he replied easily, linking their fingers. “I doubt many things in this life, Tooru, but I don’t doubt you; you are the only thing in which I know I can trust.”

“And if I fail?” His breath was shaky, his eyes beginning to water. He let the tears fall. “If I let you all down?”

“You’re not facing this alone,” Iwaizumi reminded him gently. “We’re a family, if we fail, we fail together.”

“Hajime,” he whispered, leaning into the knight’s open arms, “the thought of going out there, knowing that I’ll lose...that I’ll lose some innocent people- I can’t bear it. I can’t have men die for me.”

Iwaizumi lay down, pulling the boy down on top, immediately cocooning Tooru in his arms. Although a tall boy - taller than Iwaizumi - he felt incredibly small in that moment. “Tooru, you don’t realise the things you’ve done for us all, do you? You gave Suga and Daichi a room so they could be together whenever they wanted, and do you know what something like that means? It’s more than a room- it's an act of understanding, of compassion, of love, from a King to a couple of servants. You stood up to your father, rode all the way to Miyagi with me, and saved my mother’s village, all because you didn’t want me to do it alone. You broke hundreds of years of tradition just to make my silly little wish come true; Tooru, you changed my entire life in a way I never thought would happen- if there’s anyone worth dying for, it’s you.”

Tooru sobbed, tucking his head into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, clutching at the fabric of his shirt with white-knuckled fists, his body beginning to shake. Iwaizumi said nothing, instead just resting his chin atop Oikawa’s head, rubbing his hand along the other’s back in a smooth, rhythmic motion. Eventually, Oikawa’s sobs faltered, and he hiccuped, revealing his face just a little. His voice was croaky. 

“I don’t deserve you, Hajime,” he said, lifting his hand to Iwaizumi’s face.

Iwaizumi leaned into the touch, trying to burn the feeling into his mind. He wanted to remember every little detail: the smell of Oikawa’s hair under his nose, the heavy weight of his body, the scratchy cotton of the futon against his hip- all of it. 

Tooru pressed their foreheads together. “When I fight, I fight for you.”

When their lips met, it was as if a deep yearning had been unleashed in Hajime; he felt a desperation rise, an urge to feel, touch, taste as much of Tooru as he possibly could, an undeniable impulse to consume him whole. 

He slid his hand into Tooru’s chestnut curls, his nails scratching along the boy’s scalp as he brought him closer, their lips slotting together once again. It didn’t matter that Oikawa’s eyes were puffy, or that his nose had only just stopped running- Hajime kissed him for all that he was worth, basking in the sweet warmth of Oikawa’s mouth, the softness of his lips. He felt one of Oikawa’s hands lie on his chest, fingers gripping the fabric roughly, and pulled back to tug the shirt off over his head, chucking it aside. 

He brought their faces together again, breathing heavily. “I need you. Tonight, I need you to be mine.”

Tooru’s eyelids fluttered, and he gulped audibly, his lips skimming Hajime’s cheek on their way to his mouth. “I’m always yours.”

Iwaizumi flipped them, laying Oikawa down gently on the thin bed, immediately setting to work on his shirt. He pulled the delicate fabric up and over Tooru’s head, laughing when it ruffled his hair. He bent down and kissed every part of his face with a string of small, dainty kisses, barely heavy enough to be felt; he covered Oikawa’s eyes, cheeks, lips, neck, all the way down to his chest, where his touch became more purposed. He let his tongue drift across Oikawa’s nipple, feeling the tightness in his underwear increase as the brunette moaned, his body jerking. Hajime groaned as he sucked, his free hand slipping down to Oikawa’s slacks, rubbing against the bulge. 

“Hajime, please,” Oikawa murmured into the air, “please don’t make me wait.”

Iwaizumi groaned in reply, eyes closed as he laid his head against Oikawa’s heaving chest. He dragged his nails down Oikawa’s stomach, fingers stopping at the waistband, dancing across his skin. “I want to take my time.” He moved further down, his head against Oikawa’s hip. “I want to remember everything.”

Tooru’s slender fingers appeared and nudged his slacks down, freeing himself from the confining fabric. His cheeks were a deep pink, the colour of a rose petals in spring, and the flush spread to his chest. Hajime felt a deep sense of affection looking at Tooru splayed in front of him, still embarrassed about being seen so intimately, and he kissed the sharp pane of Oikawa’s hipbone. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

Iwaizumi nosed along Oikawa’s length, his hands finding purchase on the brunette’s hips as he licked slowly from base to tip. A sharp gasp left Tooru’s parted lips, and his hand slithered into Hajime’s hair and gripped tight, shaking ever so slightly. His hips canted as Iwaizumi took him in his mouth, the sensation pulling a groan from deep in his chest. 

“Hajime,” he murmured in a breathy voice, eyes scrunched tight, “Haji…”

Iwaizumi still hadn’t gotten over the vulnerability of hearing Oikawa say his given name when they lay together. There was something powerful about it, something so raw, that he couldn’t help but feel that one little word was his downfall; the minute it left Oikawa’s lips, those six letters packed full of love and passion, absolute unyielding trust, he was putty in Tooru’s hands.

It felt as though it was their first time again: every touch of Tooru’s body was new, every reaction uncensored and tinged with the gentleness of naivety, as though they could break in each other’s grasp were they not careful. 

Hajime loomed over the boy, and lifted his hands to Oikawa’s lips, brushing along the bottom one delicately. He met Oikawa’s eyes and nudged his finger forward, until Oikawa opened his mouth, and welcomed him. Iwaizumi’s fingers were met with Tooru’s eager tongue, which sucked on them with enthusiasm, his gaze still locked with Hajime’s. 

Iwaizumi removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth, kissing Oikawa sweetly on the lips, their noses bumping. He rested their foreheads together, voice gravelly. “I love you.”

Oikawa closed his eyes, thick black lashes brushing against his cheeks, and then smiled, his lips trembling ever so slightly. His voice was barely above a whisper, but Iwaizumi heard it. “I know.”

Hajime’s fingers rubbed against Oikawa’s entrance with no real pressure. He peppered Tooru’s face with kisses as his fingers gained a little more confidence, dipping in the smallest bit. 

Tooru gasped, and Hajime kissed him. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I won’t hurt you.”

“Hajime, ah- always keeps me safe,” he laughed breathily, taking a deep breath and relaxing his body. 

Iwaizumi pushed more of his finger in, taking his time to let Oikawa adjust. He rubbed his thumb over the King’s cheekbone and uttered sweet nothings in a soothing tone, watching as Oikawa bit his lip. When Oikawa nodded, Hajime began to move. He used only one finger at first, being extra careful not to hurt Tooru, since they hadn’t used his oils like they normally did. Quickly, Oikawa’s reactions began to change, and his wiggled his hips greedily. 

“More.”

Laughing at the demand, Hajime complied. He nudged the tip of his finger alongside the first, up to the first knuckle. There was little resistance, but still he watched Tooru, making sure the brunette wasn’t holding back any signs of pain- he knew very well Oikawa would pretend everything was fine, just to avoid being a bother.   
As if knowing what Hajime was thinking, Oikawa shifted his hips in silent encouragement. Iwaizumi wasted no time, pushing in the second finger, catching Oikawa’s lips in a tender kiss as he did so. “You okay? Any pain?”

Oikawa’s cheeks were bright red, startling against the cool pallor of his face, and he gave a short shake of his head, looking at Hajime through his lashes. “I’m okay.”

Iwaizumi felt another rush of affection burst through him, and felt hyper aware of the tightness of his slacks. It was uncomfortable, but he pushed the thought away; right now he had to focus on Tooru. He began to move his fingers slowly, but as the resistance faded he thrust them faster, gaining more confidence with every groan that left the other’s mouth. He curled his fingers and, after only a moment of searching, rubbed them against Oikawa’s prostate, allowing himself a slither of satisfaction when Oikawa threw his head back, his hips jumping. 

“Oh, my God,” he moaned weakly, his fingers grasping the bed sheets so hard his knuckles were white. “Hajime…”

“I’ve got you,” murmured the raven in reply, his gaze focused on Oikawa’s curved neck, wanting nothing more than to mark it completely. He slid a hand under Oikawa’s arched back, holding him tight as his hand continued to move. 

Oikawa raised himself up onto his elbows, his voice pleading. “Please, I’m ready. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Hajime wished he could have kept going a little longer, finding himself almost drunk on the vulnerable gasps and groans that left his lover’s lips, but he complied anyway- when could he ever really deny Oikawa?

He parted the boy’s legs fully and nestled between them, lifting Tooru’s hand to the front of his slacks, desperate for the feel of Oikawa’s skin on his. Oikawa licked his lips and rubbed teasingly, his hand cupping the bulge and squeezing it. Hajime could see a playfulness in Oikawa’s eyes and tilted his head back. 

“Please, Tooru,” he whimpered, feeling his dick twitch at the contact. “Just touch me.”

Thee prince’s hands were moving before the words had left Iwaizumi’s mouth, pulling the strings of his slacks and pushing them down roughly, leaving Hajime exposed to the cold air. His dick bounced a little, and then it was captured in Tooru’s hand, long elegant fingers wrapping tight around the shaft. He lowered his mouth to the head, plush lips capturing it in a sweet kiss, and let his tongue rub against the tip teasingly. 

Hajime closed his eyes and grabbed handfuls of Tooru’s curls, attempting to hold still; it wasn’t easy, considering every part of his body was screaming at him to pop open that pretty mouth and thrust, but he restrained himself nonetheless. Oikawa’s mouth moved with purpose, every movement oozing the confidence of a person who’d done it many times before, and knew exactly how to do it right. 

Oikawa’s tongue covered him in saliva, curling around every part of Hajime until he was ready to burst.

“Enough,” he grunted, freeing himself from Tooru’s grasp, “I want you.”

The previous bravado that Tooru had gathered shrunk away a little, and he gave a sheepish smile before nodding and settling back on the futon, averting his eyes as Hajime parted his legs wide. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whined, blushing. 

Hajime smiled fondly. “But you’re beautiful. I want to see every part of you.”

Oikawa mewled, his head buried deep in the pillow. Running his hands down Tooru’s silky thighs, he let his fingers drift to the other’s hips, where he gripped on tightly with one hand. With the other, he held himself and shifted forward, the head of his member against Tooru’s hole, letting out a shaky breath as he began to push. He moved slowly, much slower than he did with the fingers, but eventually, he was partially in. His thumb rubbed Oikawa’s hip soothingly. “Are you okay?”

Oikawa grunted and bit his lip. “I-I’m okay. Just give me a minute, then you can move a little more.”

Hajime leaned forward and bent his head to capture Oikawa’s lips in a light kiss, his mouth immediately moving to Oikawa’s cheeks, neck, ear- anywhere he could reach. His thumb drifted over a pert nipple, and Oikawa shuddered, his back arching as Hajime pinched it; his chest had always been sensitive, reacting to Iwaizumi’s touch instantly. As Oikawa groaned, Hajime pushed in more, biting his own lip in concentration. 

“It’s okay,” Tooru said delicately, his hand on Iwaizumi’s face. “You don’t have to hold back.”

Such few words, and yet Hajime felt like a dam had been released within him. His body was aching to have Oikawa, the fire in his veins boiling his blood, making his skin hot to touch. He wanted nothing more than to feel Tooru’s skin against his, their breath mingling, their tongues brushing; he needed every sense to be completely overwhelmed until everything became Oikawa. 

He pushed the rest of the way in, carefully and slowly, a deep gravelly groan settling in his chest as Tooru’s body welcomed him. There was nothing like it, no words Hajime could find that explained what it felt like to be with Oikawa- it was as if nothing else mattered anymore; there was no war, no worries, nothing going out outside of their tent. 

It was their world, and theirs alone. 

When they had finished, and Hajime had cleaned Oikawa up with a damp rag, they lay cramped together on the small futon, the covers tangled around their feet. Tooru was cuddled on Iwaizumi chest, his lips pressed against the tan skin, his eyes closed. They hadn’t talked much, content to simply hold each other, but as Hajime drifted his fingers down Tooru’s spine, he felt the other’s breaths become deep and even, and knew that he had fallen asleep. 

Even though they were busy, Hajime was glad for it- the King had gotten such little sleep during the preparations that a small nap would do him some good. Part of him wanted to lie with Oikawa all through the night, but his mind wouldn’t let him- he had too much to worry about to lie still. Carefully shifting, Iwaizumi freed himself from Tooru’s grasp, and gently moved off the bed. He dressed himself quickly, and placed a small gentle kiss on Tooru’s forehead before pulling back the curtain and slipping out the tent. 

He encountered Sugawara first, who, along with Yamaguchi and some other women Hajime did not recognize, were stirring multiple pots. A fragrant aroma filled the air and Hajime’s stomach rumbled traitorously, calling Suga’s attention to him. 

“Haji!” He exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in a while, everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he replied, stepping closer to the pot, “but what are you making? It smells delicious.”

“It’s actually Tadashi-kun’s recipe!” Koushi said proudly, hand on the tall boy’s shoulder. “It’s the best stew you’ll ever taste!”

Yamaguchi’s tan cheeks blushed a dark pink and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair. “I don’t know about the best, but thank you, Sugawara-san.”

Iwaizumi studied the boy: he was tall and gangly, but somewhat assured of his limbs, unlike Nekoma’s Lev. Despite his hair acting as a curtain, Hajime could see the overwhelming freckles covering the boys face, and wondered why he hadn’t really noticed them before; they were all different sizes and shades, splattered across his cheeks and forehead like droplets of paint. It was startlingly unique, Hajime thought. He smiled at the shy boy. “Well, I look forward to tasting it, Yamaguchi. If Suga says it’s delicious, it really must be amazing.”

As Tadashi stuttered out a rather terrified ‘thank you’, Suga grinned wide, flashing his teeth. “What are you up to?”

“Honestly, nothing much, I’m just going to do a check round everyone, make sure there’s no problems.” Iwaizumi surveyed his surroundings, noting how it was constantly bustling and filled with noise. “Although, I don’t think there’s much to do.”

“King Kuroo has already sent some of his men out on patrol, and the other’s are lined up waiting for their shift,” Sugawara explained. He quickly tasted some of the stew, and added some spices from a pouch on his belt. He hummed in satisfaction, and dipped his spoon in again. “Here, try this.”

Obediently, Hajime opened his mouth as Suga plopped the spoon in, and he got a mouthful of rich salty flavour and tender beef. He groaned, his stomach once again making itself known, and placed a hand on Suga’s shoulder. “Please tell me dinner is ready soon.”

“Twenty minutes, tops.”

“Perfect,” Iwaizumi said with a happy sigh. “I’ll be back. Nice seeing you again, Yamaguchi.”

“Yes, sir!” He squawked.

Iwaizumi walked through the crowds, mostly just enjoying the air on his face. He knew that danger was looming over them, a heavy weight on his shoulders, but he pushed it away in favour of simply strolling. It was cold, and the breeze ruffled the blades of grass at his feet. He found an unoccupied spot, and plopped himself down, drawing his knees up to his chest. He hadn’t really voiced it much, but he was terrified of what the next few days would bring; nightmares plagued his sleep, and thoughts plagued his every waking moment- what would happen? Would they lose? Would his friends be okay? Would he lose Oikawa?

The pain of the last question made him wince, and his lips thinned into a straight line. He especially hated that last thought, and yet it was the one he could escape the least. The frustrating part was that no matter how many times he thought it, he still didn’t have an answer- what if he did lose Oikawa? What would he do then? He tried to imagine his life without Tooru in it and immediately his mood soured, his stomach twisting and turning with nausea- it just wasn’t right, a life without his best friend. He’d been there for almost as long as Iwaizumi could remember, woven through all his years like the threads of a tapestry. There’s no way he could entertain the thought of that coming to an end. 

Sighing, Hajime reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out the ring his mother had given him. He held it in his open palm, staring at it and finding himself hoping that would give him some answers. Oikawa’s words ran through his mind, and just briefly, Iwaizumi entertained them- what would it be like being married to Tooru? To be Kings of Seijoh? He let his imagination wonder, picturing the two of them on thrones, heavy crowns on their heads and thick billowing kimonos spilling across the floor, a sea of people at their feet. He snickered, and just as quickly as it was created, the fantasy was gone: it wasn’t Iwaizumi’s place to rule. His place was in the sidelines, the supporting act- doing everything he could to make Oikawa shine.

He wouldn’t want to be King. 

But, a small part of him persisted, he wouldn’t mind calling Tooru his husband. If they were somewhere else, and Oikawa wasn’t a King and there was no war, no expectations, no responsibility weighing them down, they could do it. He could put that ring on Oikawa’s finger and nothing else would matter. They could run away and live in secret, a life made just for them. 

Iwaizumi scoffed, and curled his fingers round the ring. As fun as it was to daydream, he knew no good could come from it- it was nothing more than a childish wish, one he might wish upon a star and laugh about later. He put the ring back into his pouch, fingers tapping on the fabric. He told himself he had packed it at the request of his mother, but truthfully, he’d been unable to shake the sense that if he didn’t bring it, he’d regret it. Who knows, maybe the Gods were trying to tell him it was good luck. 

With that thought in mind, Hajime stood and wiped grass from his legs, before turning and making his way back to the tent. He knew Oikawa would be awake soon, and figured bringing him some dinner would make him feel better. As he walked, he passed another very large tent, stationed with a guard outside dressed in Nekoma uniform. Hajime recognized it as Kuroo’s tent. He kept walking until he heard raised voices, slowing his footsteps to hear. 

“Are you okay?” Said a small tender voice that Hajime attributed to Kenma. 

A few beats of silence, and then: “No, but I’ll have to be. We can’t avoid this fight.”

“You’re worried about Koutarou.” 

There was a few muffled coughs during which Hajime struggled to hear, but he caught the last half of the sentence. “-my best friend, and it breaks my heart to fight against him. I don’t want to harm him or his men, but I can’t let my people suffer. I have to put them first.”

“Koutarou will feel the same. He loves you.”

“I love that big loud idiot, too,” Kuroo said with a sad chuckle, sniffing. “If anything happens to him…”

“Nothing will,” Kenma soothed in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. “Keiji wouldn’t allow it.”

Iwaizumi could hear a snicker and then some shuffling, and their voices dropped to whispers. He couldn’t hear anymore and then, suddenly, the curtains opened, and Kuroo popped his head out, smirking. 

“Eavesdropping?”

“I-” Hajime replied, before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Why don’t you come in,” Kuroo said, walking back into the tent. 

Iwaizumi frowned but followed suit, gasping as the fabric fluttered behind him: There was incense and candles everywhere, and their dim glow and sweet scent filled the air, casting everything in a warm fuzziness that instantly made him feel comforted. Kenma sat on the large futon, his kimono spilling over his pale legs and down onto the ground, the gentle fabric like water in it's delicacy. He looked up and blinked, not saying a word, and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. Kuroo sat down on the futon, nodding at a chair as he did so.   
“Sit.”  
Hajime bowed deeply to them both first, and then sat. “I’m sorry for listening in to your conversation.”

“Did you hear what you wanted to?” Kuroo asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I guess so. I was worried about you. Oikawa is, too,” Hajime responded. 

Tetsurou tilted his head, his long fingers tapping against his cheek. “Is he worried I won’t fight well? That I’ll withdraw my men? I assume he thinks I’m weak.”

Hajie frowned, his tone less friendly. “Hey, don’t assume. He might come across like he only cares about himself, but the truth is he’s a lot more sensitive than he lets on. He’s worried about the stress you’re under- he knows this isn’t easy for you. We both do.”

Chuckling, the messy haired King smiled at Iwaizumi with amusement, his hazel eyes shining in the warm light. “You’re protective of him.”

“He’s my best friend,” Hajime said defiantly, his chest puffing out, “and my King. I won’t have anyone think badly of him, not when it is not warranted.”

“How long have you known each other?” 

“I met him when I was six, and began working in the castle when I was around eight,” he replied, thinking back to when he and Tooru were children. He remembered how they used to hide from everyone and lie in the grass together, and a faint smile graced his lips.

The next voice that spoke was soft and gentle. “You love him.”

Hajime startled and looked at Kenma, unsure of what to say. The blonde hadn’t asked a question, instead stating it with certainty, and the knight fluttered. He couldn’t outright deny it, so instead he just nodded. 

“I do.”

Kuroo rose and walked off to the side, coming back with a two gold goblets, passing one to Hajime. He smiled kindly, and for the first time Hajime felt as though he were seeing Kuroo without his facade; there were no wide smiles or joking tones, just a tired man. 

“Thank you for worrying about me,” Kuroo started, taking a sip from his cup. “I’ll admit, it hasn’t been easy these past few days. Part of me knew that it was a possibility, but I didn’t want to admit it. Bokuto has been my dearest friend for many many years, I can’t bear the thought of facing him in battle.”

Iwaizumi frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. “What are you going to do?”

“Deal with it,” he replied simply. “My loyalty has to go to my people first and foremost, even if I have to face my friends for it. Friendships are a hard thing for a King to have, Iwaizumi- any personal relationship is. We have to be constantly aware that no matter how much someone means to us, no matter how much we thought we could trust them, if anything goes wrong, we have to be prepared to make difficult decisions. We can’t let anything stand in the way of the safety of our people.”

Hajime sat for a few seconds absorbing the words. He swirled the wine around in his cup aimlessly, feeling at a loss for words- was there anything he could say to make this easier? He scoffed at himself, shaking his head- Kuroo was a smart man, he’d have thought of it all already. He met the King’s eyes. “You’re a good king, Sire. I’ve spoken to your men and I know how much they trust in you; they believe wholeheartedly that you will fight for them and protect them. The love they have for Nekoma is something to be admired, for sure.”

Tetsurou looked oddly touched, and gave a wide genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ve spent a lot of time making Nekoma a place where my people can flourish. It’s unlike any other Kingdom, especially with Kenma and I ruling.”

“How did you do it?” The words left Hajime’s mouth before he’d even realised he’d said it. He coughed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, how did people react? Was it hard? Don’t you worry about an heir?”

Kuroo took Kenma’s hand in his, their fingers interlocking. “It wasn’t easy. There were some council members who wouldn’t adapt no matter how hard we tried, so I had to relieve them of their positions. I find tradition to be a suffocating outdated thing- what’s innovative about keeping things the way they are? Why should my Kingdom be the exact same as it was 500 years ago? When I became King, I wanted Nekoma to reflect my desire for change, I wanted to create something beautiful.”

Kenma spoke next, giving Iwaizumi a small smile. “At first the people were scared because they hadn’t seen anything like it before, but once we showed them that our priority above all else is the Kingdom’s safety, they became more comfortable. They know Kuroo will always keep them safe.”

“And they know that Kenma will always keep me grounded,” he added on, giving the blonde a soft look, the corner of his lip turned up. 

In that moment, Hajime felt the full impact of their love for each other; it was almost as suffocating as the sweet incense, filling the whole room, clouding his mind. Even though Kenma was by no means beautiful like Oikawa, Iwaizumi could see why Kuroo adored him: his face was soft and cherubish, with plush pink cheeks and plump lips, and his curious wide eyes and button nose gave him an uncanny resemblance to a carefully painted doll, every line painted with precision. The contrast of his hair was oddly appealing, pulled into a low bun at the base of his neck, and Hajime could only guess what the small man had looked like when it was first bleached. He imagined that Kuroo had spent many years of his life growing with Kenma the same way he grew with Tooru, and it made a deep warmth settle in his chest.

“It’s truly a pleasure to know you both and to fight along side Nekoma,” he said earnestly, looking at them both. “There’s a lot Seijoh can learn from you. I’ll leave you to rest, thank you very much for talking with me.”

Hajime rose and bowed again, setting his cup down as he walked for the entrance to the tent, his mind swirling with a hundred more thoughts. Could Seijoh really be like Nekoma? Could he let Oikawa take that risk?

As if Kuroo could hear his thoughts, the raven spoke. “Don’t let fear stop you, Iwaizumi; regret is the downfall of man.”


	30. chapter 30

Even more confused than before, Hajime ambled back, rubbing at his forehead. He felt as if they knew exactly what he’d been thinking about before when he sat on the grass, ring in hand. Was Kuroo telling him to go forward with it? To indulge Oikawa and rule over Seijoh together? He thought over Yaku’s words- perhaps it really was his own fear that was stopping him. He knew that Oikawa would defy anyone who would stand in their way, should they follow in Kuroo’s footsteps and marry, but a huge part of Hajime couldn’t help but feel guilty; if Tooru married him, his life as King would unquestionably be more complicated, and it would be Hajime’s fault. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he bumped right into the small redhead from Karasuno, the small boy slamming into his chest. 

“Woah, are you wanting to fight? I’ll fight!” he yelled immediately, fiery orange hair blowing in the wind as he raised his fists, circling them in what Hajime supposed he assumed was a threatening manner. 

Iwaizumi raised a thick eyebrow. “No, I don’t want to fight. I just bumped into you by mistake.”

Looking semi relieved, the redhead relaxed, blinking up at Iwaizumi with big round eyes. Briefly, Hajime thought he had a slight resemblance to Kenma, until he opened his mouth, that is. 

“Hey! You’re the Great King’s knight!” Squawked the boy, his voice alarmingly loud.

“The Great King?” Hajime asked, “you mean Oikawa?”

“Yes! Kageyama is the King of battle, but King Oikawa is even better than him, so he’s the Great King! Once Kageyama beats him, he’ll be the Great King!”

Hajime couldn’t help but snicker. “King Kageyama is really dead set on overtaking Oikawa, isn’t he?”

Shoyo waved his hands animatedly as he replied. “Yeah, and he’ll do it! But not right now. He’s actually not that good at working with everyone else, so fighting together is still shaky. He always looks like this.”

Hinata frowned and mussed up his hair so it lay flat, and he grunted. 

Feeling unreasonably charmed, Hajime cracked a smile. “You look just like him. He’s certainly not a people person.”

Hinata began walking, assuming Iwaizumi was following him. “No, but he’s trying. He thinks he’s the best, but there’s a lot he can’t do. Right now we’re working on learning to fight together, because I’m the only one that can match his speed.”

“Really?”

Hinata grinned, his eyes glinting. “Yeah! Stand right here, okay? I’m going to run at you, get ready to block me.”

Hajime always did like a challenge. He drew his sword and nodded, watching as the young boy jogged a few metres away. He had worked with fast soldiers before, so he wasn’t particularly worried- besides, Hinata was so small that he couldn’t meet Iwaizumi’s strength. 

“You ready?”

Hajime huffed. “Bring it.”

Shoyo moved before the words had even left Iwaizumi’s mouth. He was so light on his feet that there were barely any footprints in the mud behind him, and Iwaizumi cursed when he locked eyes with the boy: there were no longer playful and wide, but narrowed and focused, glinting with a feeling Hajime couldn’t quite place. He raised his sword to block as Hinata raised his arms, but then, out of nowhere, his sword was being pushed from his hands. He looked up to find Shoyo in the air, higher than Iwaizumi, swinging down. Grunting, Iwaizumi’s sword was ripped from his hands and he stumbled backwards, catching his footing just enough to avoid a fall. Hinata landed on the balls of his feet, sword held out in front of him, and looked up in delight. 

“I told you!”

“You weren’t kidding,” Hajime huffed, walking over to his discarded sword, “that’s some serious skill you’ve got. I had no idea you could jump like that.”

“I can jump over a metre,” he said proudly, “and I’m super fast, so I can switch opponents or weave through a crowd super easily. I might not be the strongest, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a good soldier!”

Hajime hummed and began to walk, Hinata tailing him. “You’re a great bodyguard, King Kageyama should be proud to have you as his soldier.”

Hinata absolutely beamed, his step turning into more of a skip as he walked. “Thank you, knight-san! I’m super happy to be here, we have the best team ever! We have the Grand King, Kageyama, even Kenma! There’s no way we’re going to lose!”

“You know Kenma?”

Shoyo nodded. “He’s a really good friend of mine. We used to play together as children, before my family moved. He’s actually pretty good at fighting. He’s not an offensive fighter, he uses logic to make his defence stronger and trick his enemies. He’s a lot more interesting than people think.”

Taken aback by the information, Iwaizumi was silent. He’d never imagined Kenma on the battlefield, assuming that he would be helping in the medical bay, or staying behind to stay safe. 

Hinata seemed to not notice the silence and continued chattering on. “Tsukki is super talented, even if he is grumpy all the time. He’s the one who comes up with all the battle plans and stuff. He doesn’t like fighting much, he can’t see very well.” 

“He’s the tall blonde one?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like anyone but Yamaguchi. Those two are best friends!”

Hajime hummed as they approached Sugawara and Yamaguchi, pouring stew into bowls. “Speak of the devil. Hey, guys.”

“Just in time, Hajime,” Suga cooed, walking over and passing a wooden bowl into his hands, steam drifting from the top. “You must be hungry!”

“Famished,” he admitted. 

“Ah!” Suga said, noticing Hinata, “Who are you?”

“My name is Hinata Shoyo! I’m King Kageyama’s bodyguard! I know I don’t look it but I’m super fast and I even beat Knight-san!”

“Knight-san? You mean Iwaizumi?” Suga’s laughed loudly and mussed the young boy’s wild hair. “Then you really must be a bodyguard! That means you have to keep your strength up- come get some food.”

Yamaguchi handed Hinata two bowls. “Take one to Kageyama, okay?”

“Okay dokey! Thanks, Yamaguchi! Thanks, mister, uh-”

“Sugawara,” the silver chef supplied.

“Thanks Suga-san! Bye!”

As Hinata bounded away, Suga touched a hand to his heart, looking absolutely adoring. “Hajime, isn’t he just adorable?”

Iwaizumi picked up another bowl and sent Koushi a warning gaze. “Do not steal him.”

“It’s not stealing if I convince him to come live with me as my adopted son,” he murmured, seemingly in thought. 

Too tired to have more conversation, Hajime simply rolled his eyes and walked back to Oikawa’s tent, surprised to find the King awake and sitting on a chair, head held carefully in one of his hands. 

He looked deep in thought, but his eyes flickered to Hajime as he entered. “You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Had some things to do,” replied Iwaizumi, handing a bowl of stew into Tooru’s hand. “Eat.”

“Thank you for the food,” the King said quietly, before taking a few bites. “What were you doing?”

Hajime sat down on the other chair, digging in to the food. He had forgotten how hungry he was, and had to force himself to slow down. “Went for a walk, talked to Kuroo, Kenma, and Hinata.”

Oikawa watched silently as Hajime scoffed the rest of his food, and handed him his own half eaten bowl. “You’re hungry, have mine. I won’t finish it.”

Not one to pass up free food, Iwaizumi gratefully took the bowl and polished it off, chasing every last bit of rice with his chopsticks until it was completely clean. Oikawa watched him the entire time, a faint smile on his face. When Iwaizumi was done, he tapped his fingers on the arm rest. 

“What did you talk to Kuroo about?”

“Mostly just about fighting Bokuto.” Iwaizumi sat his bowl on the floor. “I don’t think you need to worry about him, I get the impression he really will do whatever it takes to keep his people safe. Even if that means losing a friend.”

“He’s just so hard to figure out,” utterd Tooru, pursing his lips, “he’s always so...aloof. I never know what’s going on in that head.”

“You don’t need to figure him out, you just need to trust him.” Reasoned the raven. “I do.”

Oikawa stared at him, and then exhaled a small laugh. “If you trust him, then I do, too.”

“Kageyama has a great fighter with that little red head,” Iwaizumi said, filling Oikawa in about their altercation. 

“Really? That shrimp can jump over a metre? That’s phenomenal, I’d love to see it,” he said, eyes glinting in interest. Oikawa had always been one to admire raw talent, even if it wasn’t one of his own men. “If Tobio doesn’t learn to work with him, I’d be happy to take Chibi-chan off his hands.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but snicker. “You’ll have to fight Suga for him, he’s already planning how to take him without anyone noticing.”

“Daichi wouldn’t allow it.” Oikawa dismissed Iwaizumi’s words with a wave of his hand.

“Bold of you to assume Daichi can tell Suga ‘no’.”

Tooru laughed softly, and stood, stretching out his muscles. His bones clicked and he winced, and began to gently rotate his neck, simply letting it hang back as he stared at the top of the makeshift ceiling, watching the fabric billowing with the slight breeze. He was dressed loosely in a kimono, one shoulder already falling down, and Hajime reached out absent mindedly and ran his fingers over Oikawa’s skin. 

“Hm?” Oikawa’s eyes shifted to meet his.

Hajime moved his hand to Oikawa’s neck, and brought their faces together. His lips met Tooru’s in a gentle kiss, and he pulled the King into his arms, squeezing him tight. 

Oikawa opened his mouth as if to speak, and then suddenly closed it, choosing instead to wrap his arms around Hajime. They stood like that for an indiscernible amount of time, swaying ever so slightly, noses pressed against each other’s necks; Hajime closed his eyes and sighed, unable to get Kuroo’s words out of his head. He felt as though the ring was burning a hole in its pouch, and as he clutched Oikawa’s kimono in his hands, he knew he couldn’t put it off anymore. 

He loved Oikawa more than anything else on this earth, and he’d be damned if he let Kuroo’s words haunt him; Iwaizumi could deal with whatever regret he would feel in life, but he couldn’t deal with the regret of not taking a chance on Tooru. 

“Tooru,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“When this war is all over…” Hajime let out another sigh, and pulled back, his hand cupping Oikawa’s face with tenderness, “I’ll marry you.”

Oikawa’s face fell slack, and he blinked repeatedly. “Eh? Really?”

“Yeah, really. I don’t know how it’ll work, or if we’ll ever be able to live like Kuroo and Kenma, but I’d kick myself if I gave up an opportunity to be at your side.” He laughed weakly, feeling his eyes water as he spoke. “I know I’m not rich, or royal, and I can’t give you an heir. It won't be easy, but then again, nothing ever is with you. But, if you’ll still have me, I...I’d be honoured to call you my husband.”

Oikawa’s lip trembled, and then he let out a great sob, crushing Iwaizumi to his chest. He was grinning as he cried, letting out a cacophony of hiccups and giggles, his voice wavering. “Of course I still want you! There’s nobody else for me but you, Hajime.”

“Then,” said Hajime, a glint in his eye, “all we’ve got to do is win a war.”

Oikawa smirked, his eyes alight with a fire and passion they’d lacked in recent months. “Ushiwaka won’t know what’s hit him.”


	31. chapter 31

Two days later, in the early hours of the morning as Hajime stood with Oikawa and the other kings, they were interrupted by the harsh clap of horses hooves. 

“Sire!” yelled a man that Hajime recognised to be one of Kuroo’s guards, “you have to prepare immediately! Ushijima’s men are on their way!”

Hajime felt his heart drop into his stomach, and looked at Oikawa, suddenly very unsure of what to do, but the brunette offered no help- he looked as though he had been turned to stone, his eyes focused on the scout only. Kuroo quickly cast away his bowl, still half full of a measly rice breakfast, and spoke sharply to the man. “How long do we have?”

“They’ll be here by midday,” he said quickly, “They’re showing no signs of slowing down.”

Kuroo turned to Oikawa, his gaze as sharp as his words. “How soon can you have your men ready?”

Whatever trance the king was in seemed immediately broken with Kuroo’s words, and Tooru stood tall, his voice strong and unwavering. “An hour, tops.”

“And you, Kageyama?” 

Kageyama looked pale, but to his credit, he kept his face completely passive, voice flat. “We’ll be ready then, too.”

Kuroo nodded and turned to his guard. “Go and tell the guards to begin protocol: I want you running constant checks of the perimeter- any news of Ushijima is to be reported right back to me.”

“Yes, sire!” The man yelled, before turning his horse around and galloping fast away from them.

“I’ll send my men out too, we’ll cover the west in case of ambush attacks,” Oikawa said, eyes scanning his surroundings, “We don’t know what he’s planning here. It’s possible he could split his men up and come at us from various routes. Fukurodani are notorious for using the forest to their advantage, since a large majority of them are archers- I’ve heard they use the branches of the trees to cover distance, so we’ll have to be vigilant and watch everything.”

Kuroo nodded. “Everyone, move. We don’t have time to waste.”

With that said, all three Kings went their separate ways, Iwaizumi close by Oikawa’s side. The King said nothing, his face clouded like a storm, and lifted his fingers to his lips, letting out a loud harsh whistle. A few moments later, his horse came bounding towards them, and Oikawa hoisted himself on immediately. He extended his hand and pulled Iwaizumi up effortlessly, and without a word they were racing towards the barracks. Iwaizumi kept his arm tight around Oikawa’s core, too stunned to think of anything to say. 

He wasn’t even sure Oikawa would say anything if he did speak- he was too focused, all traces of laughter and impishness gone, replaced with resolution and a fiercy, fiery energy. The horse skidded on the mud as Oikawa pulled her into a harsh stop in front of their men, most of which were practicing.

“Men,” Oikawa called out, his voice booming to reach all of them, “We’ve received knew that Ushijima’s army is on their way as we speak! I want all of you ready and on the front line in no more than an hour! GO!”

For a second, nothing happened; and then: chaos. 

Men began to yell and scramble, their voices blending together in one mass of noise as they pushed and shoved, each trying desperately to get back to their tents. Iwaizumi felt his stomach twist as he watched them, heart sinking as he caught sight of some of the soldiers’ faces- so many of them were barely old enough to be called teenagers, and yet here they were, bravely fighting in a war that had nothing to do with them. He caught a flash of pink hair in the crowd and yearned desperately to chase after it, needing to speak to his friends before they faced Ushijima. As much as he tried not to think of it, part of him knew it could be the last time he’d ever see them again. 

“Go,” said Oikawa softly, staring ahead. “Make sure everyone’s ready on time. I’ll be back at the tent.”

Without saying anything, Iwaizumi dismounted and watched as Oikawa dug his heels into Chiyo’s flank, sending her trotting off again. After he disappeared from sight, Hajime began jogging back to the armoury, wincing as more ruckus and noise began to arise from everywhere around him- presumably Kuroo and Kageyama’s men were in the same boat now, too, a deep sense of communal panic settling in the air like a thick choking fog. 

He was shoved side to side as people continued to run, some even tripping over their own feet in their haste to prepare, but eventually made his way into the crowded armoury, where the chatter was twice as loud. He could hear people shout across the room, the heavy clang of metal slamming against armour as swords were drawn from their stands and sheathed. His own armour was in Oikawa’s tent, but he didn’t need it at that moment- all he wanted to do was find his friends. He weaved his way through the crowd until he finally saw a tuft of pink hair. 

“Makki!”

Hanamaki turned around, a slither of relief flashing across his face at seeing Hajime. “Iwaizumi, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I needed to see you guys,” he said, looking around, “Where’s Matsukawa?”

“I’m here,” said a solemn voice from behind him, and as Hajime stepped to the side Issei moved forward, pulling his chainmail on. “It’s really happening, huh?”

Makki gave a short humourless laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. We’re really about to go out there and fight for our lives.”

Iwaizumi put a hand on each of their shoulders and, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, pulled the two of them into a rough, tight hug. “Listen guys, whatever happens out there, I love you both. I’ve shared some great years of my life with you, and I’m a lucky guy to have friends like you two. It’s an honour to fight alongside you.”

Makki’s mouth popped open, and then he slung an arm around Iwaizumi’s neck, voice immediately upbeat. “Well you better get ready for some more great years of us, because we’re not going anywhere.”

Matsukawa dug his fist into Iwaizumi’s hair, shooting them both a lazy but genuine smile. “Exactly, there’s too much fun to be had in annoying you. When this is all over, you’ll be right back to punching us.”

Hajime laughed warmly, stepping back from them both. “I can’t wait. Be safe out there, and look out for each other.”

“Of course,” Makki said softly, wrapping his arm around Matsukawa’s waist. “We’ve got each other’s backs. Now, go and get ready.”

Giving them one last nod, Hajime turned around and began to make his way through the crowd, constantly scanning for familiar faces. He saw Kyoutani standing with a deep frown and bared teeth, mace in hand, as Yahaba clipped on the last parts of his armour. The smaller boy was already dressed, his bow under his arm and quiver slung across his back, packed full of arrows. He saw Kindaichi, looking utterly terrified as he pulled on his armour, struggling to fix his shoulder plate. With a pang of sympathy, Iwaizumi made his way over and brushes the boy’s hands away, quickly tightening the strap himself. 

“There you go,” he murmured.

“Th-thank you,” he replied quietly, his eyes wide. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, and his hands shook with a tremor.

“Hey, you’re really brave for coming here,” Iwaizumi said, placing both hands on his shoulders. “You didn’t have to do that, but you did, to support your Kingdom. You’re incredibly courageous, and I’m really grateful you’re fighting with us today. Don’t second guess yourself, okay? You’re going to be amazing, Kindaichi.”

Taking a deep breath, the boy’s lip trembled as he nodded, scrunching his eyes as if to stop tears from falling. “Thank you, Sir!”

A thick hand landed on Hajime’s shoulder and spun him around. He found himself eye to eye with Daichi, who looked worn, but smiled. “Hey, I wanted to speak to you before...all this starts. I feel like I haven’t had any time since we got here.”

“It’s been kinda crazy,” he agreed, lips thinning as he noticed the purple smudges under Daichi’s eyes. It hurt him seeing his friend so stressed- Daichi wasn’t a fighter, they both knew that. “Are you okay?”

“As much as I can be right now. Listen, I just wanted to say thank you. It’s been a pleasure knowing you, and I’m really grateful for everything you and Oikawa have done for Suga and I. I think when this is over, I might just indulge him and run away together.”

Hajime chuckled lightly. “I’m sure he’ll love to hear that. But you don’t have to thank me for anything, Daichi, it’s the least you deserve. I should be thanking you for giving Seijoh your support.”

“You’re a good guy, Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s lucky.”

Iwaizumi smiled kindly and walked away, ignoring the guilt in his stomach. It wasn’t his fault they were here- he knew that- but he couldn’t help feel horrible looking into the eyes of so many young boys and knowing that come tomorrow, they might not be alive. Gritting his teeth, Hajime grabbed one of the chairs, stood on it and faced them all, his voice loud and booming as he yelled, grabbing their attention. 

“OI!” He started, letting his gaze roam across the room. “Remember that you’re all men of Seijoh! We don’t run from challenges, and we sure as hell don’t let fear rule us- we are strong, and united! Every one of you is a warrior, and Ushijima’s army has no idea who they’re messing with- when you come for one of us, you come for all of us! Stand together, and get ready to face your enemy: today, Shiratorizawa will FALL!”

He was met with a huge deafening cheer, the vibrations coursing through his body so powerful he could feel his own heartbeat race. He grinned and yelled back, unable to comprehend the wave of pure pride he felt upon seeing so many faces, familiar and new, all willing to follow him into battle. 

This was where he was meant to be.

When he rushed back into Oikawa’s tent, he saw the King strapping into the last pieces of his armour. Iwaizumi found himself momentarily shocked at the sight- Oikawa had never even trained in full armour before, and nothing Iwaizumi experienced could have prepared him for how stunning he looked: his broad chest was now gleaming, the strong curves of metal wrapping around his torso and up his neck, intricate designs of vines carved along the edges; thick elegant gauntlets covered his arms all the way down to his hands, his long tapering fingers encased in metal; faded dark leather wrapped around his thighs, his cuisse strapped across his legs with tightly tied strips; and his sword, bright and gleaming, sheathed at his hip, waiting to be used.   
In all his life, Hajime had never seen Oikawa look more like a King. 

Oikawa looked at him, face serious. “Get dressed, we don’t have much time.”

“Yes, sire.”

Iwaizumi shook himself out of his thoughts and immediately started changing, his fingers pulling and strapping on every piece of his armour from memory alone. He himself hadn’t worn full armour like this before either, and although unusual and a little heavy, it made him feel strong. He picked up his sword- one of the hundreds gifted to them by Dateko- and held it in his hands for a moment, appreciating its weight. Even though he had trained with swords for years, it had never fully sunk in that in his hands was a weapon capable of taking a life. It made him feel queasy, and it must have shown on his face, for Oikawa spoke. 

“Bet you’re regretting becoming a knight now.”

“No,” he answered easily, sheathing the sword, “I don’t. I might not be ecstatic for what’s going to happen, but I’ll do what I have to do to keep you safe. Besides, even if I wasn’t a knight, I'd still come here to fight.”

Oikawa’s exterior softened just a little, and he huffed a small laugh. “Your loyalty really knows no bounds, does it, Iwa-chan?”

“Hajime,” Iwaizumi replied, meeting Oikawa’s chocolate brown eyes. “Today, it’s Hajime.”

The King was silent for a few seconds, and then, with a solemn nod and a sad smile, agreed. “Hajime.”

When the hour was up, Hajime found himself along with Nekoma and Karasuno’s men standing in together in long, straight lines, staring ahead at the expanse of land that lay in front of them. Matsukawa was on his left, Hanamaki on his right, both of them with carefully blank expressions. Kuroo, Kageyama and Oikawa stood in front of their respective sectors, faces drawn tight like the strings of a violin. Kenma stood by Kuroo. He looked almost unrecognizable, dressed in his armour, as if all the softness had left his face and posture; he looked calculating and serious, hair pulled into a tight bun on top of his head. Kuroo spoke first. 

“Men of Nekoma, I could not be more proud of you all,” he bellowed, “Today, every single one of you is the most important man on earth; you are the blood that flows through Nekoma, and without you, there is no Kingdom to protect. Remember- no matter what happens, the blood must never stop flowing! Nekoma will not fall!”  
Everyone cheered, loud enough to deafen Hajime’s ears, but he didn't care. He’d cheer until his throat was raw.

Kageyama raised his hand, and looked at his men. Hajime thought he saw him hold Hinata’s gaze longer than the rest, but then he blinked, and Kageyama’s eyes were elsewhere. 

“Karasuno, we will not be underestimated! Ushijima may look upon us as weak, but that is his mistake- we will rise up and show him that Karasuno is relentless, that we are powerful, and most importantly, WE WILL FIGHT! No challenge is too big for us to overcome it- and no enemy will ever take what is ours! Karasuno, fly high!”

Iwaizumi clapped his hands until they stung, but the noise tapered off as Oikawa lifted his hand.

“I was afraid of this day for so long.” His voice rang out in the silence, commanding the attention of every man. “I did not think I would ever be ready to do this, nor was I ready to accept the consequences. But right here, as I stand before you all, I have never felt more strong. I look at Seijoh’s army, and I see faces I’ve known for weeks, and even some I’ve known for years; I see my friends, my people, and some of the bravest men in the entire world. I see a family. And I will fight for you until my very last breath.”

The cheering didn’t die down, not even when Oikawa waved his hands. The King began to smile, Iwaizumi catching the slight glint in his eyes as he simply listened to the noise, taking it in. With a spur of energy, Hajime took a step forward, and shoved his fist in the air. 

“LONG LIVE THE KING!”


	32. chapter 32

The ground shook with an ominous rumble, the breeze rustling the trees, singing as it flitted through the leaves. Hajime’s heart beat loudly, like a metronome, counting down the seconds. For a moment, nothing happened, everyone’s breath caught in their throats as they watched the horizon. 

And then: he arrived. 

Ushijima was the first one to be seen. He was a dot in the distance, but Hajime knew it was him. He was on a horse almost as tall as him, whose height and muscle was as intimidating as the man himself. Then, a mass formed behind him, and Iwaizumi felt his eyes widen as he saw the formidable army Wakatoshi had brought with him: it was more men than they had for sure, the clashing colours like a bright beacon, and as he watched, they didn’t stop coming. They were moving slowly, and Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa, unsure. 

“Wait,” the King said, staring ahead. “Don’t move yet.”

Everything in Iwaizumi’s instincts told him to run, but he trusted in Oikawa- if he was told to stay, he would. It was unnatural, how calm Oikawa seemed; gone was the frightened boy of before, and in his place stood a man, head held high and hands relaxed at his side. His gaze was unmoving, locked onto Ushijima’s figure, growing steadily closer. 

Eventually, Ushijima and his enormous army were across the field, rustling every so lightly with the breeze, like blades of grass. Iwaizumi let his eyes drift over them all, taking in everything he could see: Ushijima was front and centre, with that red head by his side, and another boy with ashy blonde hair; to his right was a tall muscular man with a wild mess of white and black hair, who’s men stood behind him, dressed in armour of startling white and gold; to his left was a man Iwaizumi had never seen, who had a shaved head, apart from the bright blonde mess on top, whose army was the smallest of the three. 

Ushijima dismounted, and stepped forward. 

Iwaizumi felt his lip curl back, hand immediately tightening around the hilt of his sword as Ushijima took yet another step. 

“Oikawa Tooru,” he called in a loud clear voice, “You refused my offer, and rejected my kindness. You have not only endangered your own life, but that of your people. I will give you one last chance to end this all- hand over your crown now, and Seijoh will be safe. The same goes for your friends. Spare yourself a defeat you will never recover from, and hand yourself over to Shiratorizawa. It is the only way.”

Hajime looked at Oikawa, suddenly worried- what if he did it? What if he was so scared to risk his men that he let Ushijima win?

Tooru’s voice boomed right back without hesitation. “Never. I came here to fight for the freedom of my people, and that is exactly what I’ll do. You will never have claim over me.”

Kuroo stepped forward. “Or me.”

“Or me,” Kageyama added, scowling as he brandished his sword. 

“Then you have sealed your own deaths,” Wakatoshi said simply. “Men, CHARGE!”

Everything happened at once: Ushijima and his men were running, and then suddenly, so was Hajime. He wasn’t even aware of consciously pushing his legs to move,but still he was running, and there were deafening yells all around him. His own throat was raw as he screamed, his sword unsheathed and raised as he ran, ready to swing down on his first unlucky victim. Oikawa was beside him, wind whipping the brunette’s hair back, his perfect porcelain face creased in rage as he bared his teeth, eyes locked on Ushijima. Iwaizumi knew in that moment, Oikawa wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead. 

It felt like time slowed down when the two armies met. Iwaizumi swung his sword down and felt the vibrations shoot up to his elbows as it clashed against another, his eyes meeting the wide unsettling eyes of Tendou Satori. Iwaizumi grunted and pushed past him, blocking as many hits as he could, his eyes darting all around him, trying to assess every threat. 

It was near impossible, and all he could see was the flashes of metal as men fought. He kept swinging his own sword, deflecting as many hits as he could, keeping his eyes trained only on the colours: if it was purple, white or yellow, he would hit it. He heard groans and screams but was too afraid to look and see where they’d come from, determined to keep his eyes up instead; there was no time to worry about anything else; everything he stood for, everything he loved, was on the line, and Hajime would be damned if he gave up without a fight. 

Roaring with anger, Hajime swung his sword, slicing across the back of a man he didn’t know. It was one of Ushijima’s men, who’s rich purple armour was now soaked in blood as it pooled from his wound, the man dropping unceremoniously to the ground. Hajime looked at him in shock for a moment, unnervingly aware of what he’d just done, and then a shout broke him from his trance. 

“Iwaizumi, move!” Matsukawa shouted, blocking a hit to Iwaizumi with his own sword. Matsukawa’s normally relaxed gaze was wide and focused, his face tense as he turned around to plummet his sword through a man’s chest. 

Iwaizumi felt as though electricity surged through his body, and he ran, sword in his grip. He couldn’t afford to be shocked, not right now. Not if he wanted to live.   
It felt like he was in a maze, the longer they ran through the field. The field was huge, and yet as more limp bodies began to sprawl across the ground, it felt as if there was nowhere to go, every step becoming harder. He felt limbs crush under his boots as he ran, and a deep aching hurt panged in his chest- regardless of whether it was enemy or friend, he felt horrible for disrespecting the dead. But, there was nothing he could do.

His eyes desperately wanted to search for Oikawa, but Hajime knew he had to trust in the King- he could fend for himself without Hajime’s help, at least for now. He had to focus on making Ushijima’s army weaker. Blood dripped from his sword as he sliced along a man’s thigh, grunting as he pulled it free from the muscle. The man screamed and dropped to the ground, dropping his sword to clutch at his leg, but Hajime didn’t have time to blink before another sword was swinging at him with persistence. He blocked it and cursed, seeing that it was once again Tendou. They danced around each other, the harsh clang of metal hurting his ears. Tendou wore a large, wide smile, and Iwaizumi felt his face sour. 

“You like this, don’t you?”

If possible, the red head’s smile got even bigger. “I don’t just like it- I love it. This is what I live for.”

Iwaizumi slashed at him, anger spiking when Satori jumped aside, missing it. “You’re disgusting. There is no joy in this.”

Their swords met in the air, Hajime’s muscles straining as Tendou stepped closer, their faces too close for Iwaizumi’s comfort. He could see the dirt and sweat on Satori’s pale skin, the creases at his round unblinking eyes as he grinned. There was nothing but ecstasy in his beady black eyes. 

His voice was high and eager, like a child’s. “There is always joy in taking a man’s life. I will cut your throat and laugh whilst you bleed.”

Iwaizumi summoned his strength and shoved, pushing Tendou back, stumbling. The red head laughed and looked at Iwaizumi with a gaze the raven couldn’t quite place, and wiped his hand across his forehead. 

“I’ll come back for you,” he promised, before turning and getting lost in the crowd. 

Hajime searched for him but with so many moving bodies, so much noise and screams, it was impossible. He grunted and threw himself back into the fight, taking out as many bodies as he could. His sword dripped with blood, the once polished silver now stained crimson, and as droplets travelled and landed on the soil, he decided that once this war was over, he’d fling it into the lake; his hands would never hold that weapon again. 

The whole battlefield was stained ruby. Injured men were being dragged to the medical bay, and bodies still littered the ground, discarded swords embedded in the soft marsh. Iwaizumi took cover behind a fallen tree, resting against it with a heaving chest. He looked over at his own medical bay, stomach lurching at the men laying outside- were so many injured that there wasn’t any more room? The idea made him feel sick, and he forced it away. He knew there’d be casualties, and everyone who chose to fight knew that, too. It was a risk they all had to take. Besides, he reasoned with himself, better to be injured than dead. 

Iwaizumi took a breath, and then ran back into the field, dodging hits as he went. When one came particularly too close, he dropped to his knees and slid across the mud, hissing as the blade nicked the side of his neck. He looked over and saw one of Ushijima’s men, who’s pale blonde hair was dyed black at the ends. The man stared at Iwaizumi for a second, looking completely disinterested, and then quick as a flash, he whirled and shoved his sword deep into the ribcage of a tall gangly boy behind him. Iwaizumi looked at the boy, and felt his heart drop. 

He recognized the head of silver hair- it was Lev. 

Lev looked at the man with surprise on his face, as if he couldn’t quite believe there was a sword lodged in his chest. His grip on his own sword faltered, and fell from his hand, his body dropping to the ground when the sword was pulled from his ribs. 

“LEV!” Iwaizumi yelled as he scrambled towards him, his heart racing as the boy gasped and gurgled, struggling for breath as blood filled his lungs. 

The man looked at them with a careful controlled stare. “Shiratorizawa will claim you all.”

To his right, Iwaizumi heard a gasp, and the two men looked over to see Yaku, his face stricken. He dropped to his knees beside Lev, immediately pulling the boy’s head onto his lap, and smoothing back his hair. 

“Oh, Lev, you idiot! What you go and get yourself stabbed for?”

Yaku’s words were wobbly and his lip trembled as he wiped blood from Lev’s mouth, his hands shaking with the motion. 

Iwaizumi kept his eyes trained on the blonde, his hands curling ever so slightly as he fought the impulse to turn and look at his friends. The Shiratorizawa soldier stared at him with a blank face, his own sword held loosely at his side, rivulets of blood dripping down slowly, splashing on the earth.

Lev coughed, splattering more blood across his chin, and Iwaizumi turned his head ever so slightly. He could see his eyes struggling to stay open as he stared at the smaller man, an attempt of a smile on his face. “D-did I do good, Yaku-san? I… I wanted to- to make you proud.”

Yaku huffed a sob, but smiled at Lev and shook his head. “Of course you did. You’re the perfect soldier, Lev. You did better than I could ever have imagined.”

Looking pleased with this, Lev closed his eyes, his voice faint. “Good...Yaku-san…”

Lev’s head lolled back, his pained breaths falling silent as Yaku held him. 

Iwaizumi watched in horror, unable to look away. He blinked slowly, suddenly remembering that he still had to fight,and faced the soldier again, somewhat surprised he hadn’t taken advantage of Iwaizumi’s lapse in attention.

The blonde man tilted his head. “Your sentimentality makes you weak. There is no place for weakness in war.”

Iwaizumi raised his sword to swing, but was surprised when Yaku stepped forward, armour covered in Lev’s blood. His face was furious, teeth bared and sword extended, his voice biting. 

“You will pay for what you’ve done,” he said, staring at the man. “You will not leave with your life.”

The soldier had the audacity to smile. 

They were fighting right before him. Iwaizumi hurried to Lev and scooped him up gently, unable to make himself be rough even though the boy was dead. He carried him over to the fallen tree, and laid his long body down in the soft ground, out of the road. He couldn’t let anyone trample on him. When he ran back out, he was surprised to see the blonde man slumped on the ground, a large unsightly slit across his throat. Blood poured down his front like a waterfall, and his eyes flickered with the barest traces of life. Yaku turned to Hajime. 

“Where is he?”

“Behind the tree there,” he replied, pointing. “Do you need help?”

“No,” said Yaku curtly, already walking towards the tree. “Go, fight. You can't linger.”

Iwaizumi wanted to stay, but there was a sheen in Yaku’s eyes, and he knew he couldn’t stay. He nodded and jogged forward, back into the heart of battle. He heard a whistling from somewhere to his right and looked up to see hundreds of arrows flying through the air, hurtling right at him. Hajime cursed and dropped to the ground, picking up a discarded shield and crouched, wincing as they hit off the metal with small bouts of force.

Screams filled the air, but Hajime didn’t dare risk looking until he finally felt the blows against his shield stop. He breathed heavily, quickly rising to his feet, looking around in shock: the ground was littered with screaming men, pierced by the arrows, and their bodies writhed like worms in the dirt. He picked one of the arrows up from the ground and briefly studied it- the dark smooth wood, the perfectly placed feathers, the peculiar bone tip, there was no mistaking it; these were Fukurodani’s work. 

He held it tightly in his grip, and gritted his teeth. Even Shiratorizawa men had been hit in the attack, and the thought twisted his stomach- how willing was Ushijima in sacrificing his own men for the sake of victory? As much as Oikawa wanted to win, Hajime knew he would never risk hurting his men like that. But, as Hajime stood thinking, he was reminded that battle does not stop for anyone: quickly, he heard the snap of a twig behind him, and whirled around with his sword, grunting as it slammed into another. 

It was one of the men from Jozenji, his face covered in dirt and blood, his teeth bared as he shoved against Iwaizumi with a yell, swinging at him repeatedly. Iwaizumi cursed and stepped back, blocking the barrage of hits the best he could- it was as if the man had lost no stamina, his body energised and ready as he swung, arms barely straining. Hajime winced as one of the hits slammed against his arm, a deep pain radiating through to his bone. He hissed in pain, but quickly retaliated and, using as much strength as he could muster, slammed his sword into the soldiers, knocking it flying from his hands. 

Then, before the other could even blink, Hajime slammed the arrow he had curled in his fist into the man’s neck, instinctively squeezing his eyes shut as a gush of blood hit him in the face, spurting from the would at incredible speed. Hajime gasped and stepped back, wiping the liquid from his eyes, and watched as the soldier, who can’t have been much older than him, gargled and dropped to the ground, blood spilling from his mouth. He stared at Hajime with an unrelenting gaze, and the raven felt transfixed to the spot, unable to look away even as the boy’s life ebbed away. 

Hajime dropped to his knees, and with shaky fingers, closed the man’s eyes, dropping his face to the ground in a bow. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “please forgive me. I have to protect my King. I hope you find peace.”

Then, reminding himself of why he was here and why he was fighting, Hajime stood, and held his sword.

It wasn’t over yet.


	33. 33

He did not know how long had passed, but it felt as though time had ceased to exist as they fought; no longer did the drawing sun signal an end to the day- nothing could bring their battle to an end, it seemed. His arms ached, his chest stung with the desperate need for air, his sword felt twice as heavy in his hands, laden with the weight of all it had destroyed. Hajime’s armour was covered in blood, and the worst part was so little of it was his own- but still, he couldn’t allow himself to ponder that. He knew exactly what war meant, he knew what it meant to fight for his Kingdom. He would slay everyone if it meant Oikawa stayed safe. 

“Iwaizumi!” 

He pulled his sword from the back of a Shiratorizawa soldier as his name was called, and Hajime turned to see a blood stained dishevelled Kuroo heading towards him. His hair was even wilder than before, and his armour was slashed in several places. But, as Hajime assessed him, there seemed to be no major wounds, and he relaxed. 

“King Kuroo,” he answered, voice scratchy. “You’re alive. Good.”

“Same to you,” he replied, but the smile died from his face quickly. “I need your help. I can’t find Kenma.”

Hajime cursed, and wiped at his brow. “Then let’s get looking.”

The two of them lifted their weapons and ran, taking down anyone who got in their way, the thuds of bodies hitting the ground almost as repetitive and steady as a heartbeat. Kuroo stooped to pluck the sword from a dead man’s hand, now carrying one in each hand. 

“Any word on Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked, staring ahead as he sliced along the back of a man’s knees, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

“He’s fine. The last I saw he and Ushijima were still fighting, but he’s holding his own.”

Iwaizumi nodded. “And your men?”

Kuroo’s lips thinned. “We’ve lost Inuoka. Yamamoto is in the medical bay. I don’t know about anyone else.”

Iwaizumi lifted his head. “Lev didn’t make it, but he was a valiant warrior. He fought well.”

Kuroo blinked, and for just a second, Hajime could see a crack in his facade. And then, it was gone. “Of course he did. He’s a soldier of Nekoma.”

Iwaizumi huffed and gave a small, genuine smile. “Damn right.”

“Fuck, duck!” Kuroo yelled.

Hajime didn’t question it, ducking immediately. Another onslaught of arrows soared through the sky, and Hajime watched in awe as Kuroo stood in front of him, slicing every arrow with the swords he held in his hands, twirling them with ease through the air, slicing through every arrow that came his way. 

A new, calm voice spoke. “Very impressive for an idiot.”

Kuroo laughed, and turned to the left, where a tall, graceful man stood. “Nice to see you Akaashi.”

The man tilted his head, face unmoving. He was incredibly pale, with thick black hair that curled around his delicate face, and his large, heavy lidded eyes were watching them both carefully. A sword sat in its sheath at his hip, and a quiver was slung across his back, filled with arrows. The bow was held loosely in his hand.   
Akaashi spoke. “I wish I could say the same.”

“He loves me really, Iwaizumi,” Kuroo said, in a strained teasing voice. “How is Bokuto?”

“Alive.”

Kuroo visibly relaxed, and nodded. “Okay, That’s good.”

“I can’t stay.”

“Wait-”

Then, without a word, Akaashi turned and began to run, extremely light on his feet. Kuroo cursed and took after him and, not entirely sure what else to do, Hajime followed. They ran after the black haired boy, the two of them equally as clumsy as each other, nowhere near as graceful as the Fukurodani soldier; Akaashi seemed to hop so lightly, as if his feet were barely touching the ground as he ran, and he looked behind him, clicking his tongue. “Following me, Kuroo? I’ll have to kill you, this is a war, you know.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Akaashi gave a hint of a smile, and then, in the most fluid motion Hajime had ever seen, he leaped into the air, and drew an arrow as he twisted his torso to face them, letting it fly before he delicately dropped to the ground, running again. 

The arrow flew through Kuroo’s hair, cutting a neat chunk of it off, and the raven cursed. 

“Akaashi! Not my hair!”

They continued to run, but then Akaashi skid to a halt, the unforeseen action causing Hajime and Kuroo to crash into each other as they were forced to slow down, feet sliding in the mud. They righted themselves and looked up, Hajime’s stomach once again turning as he caught sight of wild red hair, and unnerving eyes. 

Tendou stood, a grin on his face, with his dirty hand curled around Kenma’s throat, gripping tightly. The blonde stood still, his wide eyes wet with tears, weapons discarded. His chest heaved with breaths, and he sobbed when he locked eyes with Kuroo. 

“Tetsurou,” he cried out, wincing as Tendou’s hand tightened. 

Kuroo straightened, and his mouth twisted into a snarl, teeth bared and eyes piercing; his careful yet purposeful steps reminded Iwaizumi of a predator closing in on its prey- a cat circling a mouse. Both his swords were raised and his voice was a low, clear growl. “If you touch a hair on his head I’ll kill you.”

This seemed only to excite Tendou, and he giggled, a high pitched cackle. “Oh, I won’t kill him. Akaashi will.”

Akaashi’s mouth fell open, and he spluttered. “Me?”

“You, Keiji-chan,” the redhead sang, “after all, this is your enemy, no? You’ve sworn allegiance to Shiratorizawa. Kill him.”

Akaashi’s eyes narrowed into slits, and his normally controlled face soured in disgust. “It was allegiance, or we would be killed. Siding with you was a matter of survival, not freewill.”

“All the same, in the end,” he replied easily, lifting his sword to Kenma’s neck. He pressed it ever so gently against the pale column of Kema’s neck, drawing the smallest amount of blood, and a wince from the blonde, whose large golden eyes were filled with tears.

Kuroo lunged, but Tendou only laughed, pressing the sword hard enough that Kenma gasped in pain. 

“Ah, ah, you step near me and I’ll slice his head right from his neck. Only Akaashi comes closer.”

Akaashi stared at Tendou with cold, dark eyes, morphing his face back to neutral. He plucked his sword from its sheath, and held it in his hands, avoiding Kenma’s eyes. He stepped closer, and raised his sword.

Iwaizumi felt the breath leave his lungs, ready to scream, to lunge, to do anything to stop the mess happening in front of him, but Kuroo’s hand was gripped around his waist, squeezing so hard that Iwaizumi worried the bone might snap. He watched as the Nekoma King stared in trepidation and fear, his gaze never leaving Kenma’s. 

Then, Akaashi swung. 

His sword clashed against Tendou’s, and the redhead clicked his tongue in distaste. “You should have just killed him. Now you’ll all suffer.”

“I will not kill him,” Keiji spat, “he is my friend. He is not a fighter. Release him and kill me instead.”

“Oh, we love a martyr,” cooed Tendou, but then his sweet voice was replaced by a wicked grin and a whisper. “But we love tragedy more.”

“NO!” Kuroo roared, leaping forward, but it was too late. 

Tendou kicked Akaashi so hard that he slammed into Kuroo’s body, sending the two to them crashing to the ground. And then, before Hajime could even move, Tendou shoved his sword through Kenma’s back, straight through until it ripped through his armour, and poked out his chest. 

The blonde boy screamed, a loud guttural yell as Tendou forcefully yanked the sword back, his smile suddenly gone. 

“This is what happens when you go against Shiratorizawa. Your disobedience will be paid for, Kejii.”

Akaashi roared and lunged forward, swinging his sword with a vengeance and a power Hajime hadn’t seen before; his eyes were wide, his face twisted in fury, and he kept swinging at Satori, over and over again, forcing the redhead to step back. 

“You two, Go!” He yelled suddenly, unable to take his eyes off his opponent, “get Kenma to the medical bay!”

Hajime nodded and dropped to his knees beside Kuroo, who was cradling Kenma and sobbing, his words unintelligible. He held the small body in his arms, his shaking bloodied hands trying to push Kenma’s hair from his face, chest heaving. 

Kenma stared at him, eyelids fluttering ever so softly, his breaths raspy. He coughed, blood speckling his plush lips, and he raised a weak hand to Kuroo’s face, stroking it as best he could. 

“No more fighting, Tetsurou...I can’t bear the sight.”

Kuroo sobbed, his tears dripping down his face and landing on Kenma’s cheeks. He shook his head, biting his lip as he tried to control his voice. “P-please don’t die, Kenma, you can’t leave me, not like this. I-I’m so sorry, I couldn’t save you, I couldn’t-”

“I love you,” Kenma said quietly, his eyes sliding out of focus as he struggled to look at Kuroo. 

“Don’t say that. It’s not the end, Kenma, it’s not,” he begged desperately, hugging the blonde to his chest, uncaring, or perhaps ignoring, the way Kenma’s blood stained his clothes a deep crimson, somehow startling even on the red fabric. 

Iwaizumi felt as though he were intruding on a private moment, but he knew Akaashi couldn’t hold off Tendou forever. He grabbed Kuroo’s shoulder, words quipped and urgent. “We have to go, now. Kenma needs medical attention. We need to get him somewhere safe.”

Kuroo, looking a little surprised, as if he’d forgotten Hajime was even there, gulped and nodded, gingerly rising to his feet, kissing his lover’s forehead when the petite man winced in pain. “I’m sorry, kitten, You’ll be safe soon, just hold on.”

Kenma grunted, his eyes fluttering shut as they began to jog towards the medical bay. Hajime had his sword out, ready to take down anyone in their way- Kuroo was in no position to fight, barely able to comprehend what had just happened, and Iwaizumi knew that it was the least he could do to protect them all until Kenma was safe. He could hear Tetsurou mumbling to Kenma as they ran, over and over, desperately trying to keep the man awake and talking. Kenma was so quiet that Hajime couldn’t hear if he was responding or not, which made his stomach twist like snakes around a coil. 

Finally, they burst through the flaps of the tent, chests heaving. 

“Kozume Kenma, stab wound! He needs immediate attention!” 

Yamaguchi ran forward and scooped Kenma from Kuroo’s arms, laying him down on the futon, immediately calling out to the staff. “I need bandages, water, salve, rags! Get me my needles and threads!” 

Almost too quick to notice, Yamaguchi had ripped Kenma’s clothes from his body, unlatching the armour with a flick of his tapering fingers. In person Kenma’s wound looked even worse: it was ugly and deep, blood pouring out at a faster rate that it could be contained, the flesh twisted and ripped. Yamaguchi cursed and held rags to it in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but they watched in horror as Kenma’s blood stained them all a deep dark red. 

Kuroo cried, gripping Kenma’s lax hand in his. “I’m so sorry, Kenma, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Kenma stared at him, and gave a very weak, small smile. “I fought for Nekoma. Dying...for you, for them...it’s worth it.”

Iwaizumi grunted. “Save him.”

Yamaguchi clicked his tongue, hands working quickly as everything was brought to him. “His wound is severe- it’s a clean would straight through- it is bound to have cut through his lungs. He’s lost so much blood, I- I don’t know if I can-”

“Try, please,” Kuroo begged, looking at Yamaguchi with tearful eyes. 

Kenma coughed, and his voice was a rasp. “Tetsurou, it’s too late…”

“It’s not, kitten, it’s not-”

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes losing focus, drifting to the ceiling. “I love…”

“I love you, too,” Kuroo whispered, his body wracked with sobs. “More than life itself.”

Kenma’s last breath left his lips like a gentle wisp of smoke, and his eyes stared at nothing, covered in a glassy sheen, hand going limp in Kuroo’s. Kuroo cried silently, tears overflowing as he stared at the body of his lover, hand tangled in his hair. 

“Kenma, Kenma no, please! Please wake up, please-” he gasped, lips shaking, “I can’t do this without you. Please don’t leave me.”

But the blonde remained unmoving, his pale chest still. His eyes didn’t flutter, his hand didn’t grasp Kuroo’s, and as a small trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, it hit Iwaizumi that he had just witnessed the death of someone so precious- Kenma was to Kuroo what Oikawa was to him. 

He couldn’t comprehend the pain that Kuroo felt, unable to do anything other than stare, shock setting through his limbs. That could have been him, staring at Tooru.

That still could be him. 

Yamaguchi wiped a tear from his eye, sniffing. “I’m so sorry, my Lord.”

“Leave me,” Kuroo said quietly, his hand still clasping Kenma’s. “Please.”

Iwaizumi stood immediately, still dazed, and walked away. 

Suddenly, there was a scuffle behind him, the thunderous footsteps of more men as another body was brought in. He couldn’t see much of the soldier as he was being carried in, but as he was laid down, and the fellow soldiers made way for physicians to work, he saw an unsightly amount of blood, and a large deep gash in the man’s leg, just below his knee. 

“Oh, my God,” a familiar voice cried. “Daichi!”

Suga dropped to his knees and placed his hands on the soldier’s face, which Iwaizumi could now see was none other than his childhood friend. The silver haired boy’s hands were shaken, his clothes becoming soaked in Daichi’s blood as he knelt by his side. 

Iwaizumi sprinted over, his eyes wide. “Daichi, what happened?”

The man groaned, his face pale and sweat gathering on his brow. His face was covered in dirt and blood, and his lips were thin. Still, his hand gripped Suga’s. “One of Fukurodani’s soldiers got me...one swipe and I was on the ground. It hurt so much, but now I can’t feel much of anything.”

Iwaizumi cursed, looking at his friend’s wound again. His stomach turned as he caught sight of bone. “They got you deep.”

Suga, who’d been silent during the whole conversation, suddenly piped up, his voice strict and authoritative. “I need water, rags, a cautery, cord, and a handsaw. Someone get me my poultice.”

Daichi shuddered, his eyes flitting frantically between Iwaizumi and Suga. “What are you going to do?”

Suga’s face lost its harshness, and he leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on his lover’s lips. “Save you.”

Assistants brought everything Koushi had asked for, and gingerly, he picked up one of the rags, dabbing his poultice onto it. He smiled sweetly. “This’ll help you sleep, my love. When you wake up, you’ll be right as rain.”

Daichi’s eyes watered, and Hajime had to turn his head, feeling as though he were intruding on a moment not meant for him. 

Sensing Sawamura’s fear, Suga kissed his forehead. “I would never, ever harm you. You are always safe when you are with me.”

Daichi gulped and nodded, his gaze beginning to become unfocused. “I trust you.”

Suga slipped one hand under Daichi’s head, and with the other, held the rag to his face, covering his mouth and nose. After a few seconds, Daichi had went completely slack. 

Iwaizumi’s heart skipped a beat, and he opened his mouth to speak. 

“He’s fine, he’s just unconscious,” Suga replied, without even looking. He had already begun to tie the cord around Daichi’s leg, one above the knee, and one just under his wound. “He couldn’t be awake for this.”

As more and more people crowded around Daichi, their hands covering every inch of them, Hajime locked eyes with Suga. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Hajime, the love of my life is lying in front of me, with his life in my hands. I don’t have any choice but to be okay.”

After a beat of silence, Suga spoke again, softer this time. 

“We’ll be okay. Now, go back out there and fight. There’s too much to do here and you’ll be in my way.”

Quirking a half smile, Hajime rose, sending one last look at his friend. His face looked more peaceful than it had before, his eyebrows not scrunched up in the throes of pain. Suga was already busy at work, heating his scalpel up by a flame, his grip steady on Daichi’s thigh, and twisted as Iwaizumi’s stomach felt, there was a relief to be had in knowing Daichi was under Suga’s care - no matter how dire the circumstances, Sugawara would never let anything take Daichi away from him, not even death.


	34. 34

The battlefield was even more horrible than Hajime’s memory served. He was only gone for a quarter of an hour, and yet, as he stepped out onto the trodden grass, it seemed a thousand empty eyes stared back at him, mouths slack with frozen screams. His sword was held loosely in his hand, but no matter how hard he tried, he failed to move it, instead standing as it dangled in his uncurled fingers. Then, with a shaky breath, he gripped the hilt, and took a step forward. He could hear the cries of battle just over the hill, and his lips thinned- he couldn’t afford to get caught up in his feelings, not right now. Oikawa still needed him. 

Iwaizumi’s foot tripped over something, and he frowned looking down. His heart sank. At his feet was a soldier, clad in Seijoh armour, an arrow sticking proudly from his chest, the wood stained with blood. The soldier lay face down, but that didn’t matter- Iwaizumi could tell by the shock of spiky black hair who it was. He knelt down, and gingerly turned the boy onto his back, carefully brushing the dirt off from his face. Kindaichi’s lifeless body was slack and heavy, his glassy eyes staring at nothing. Iwaizumi scooped the boy into his arms and hugged him tightly, squeezing his eyes shut as his lips trembled. 

“You did so good,” he whispered in the dead boy’s ear, “I’m so proud that you fought for us.”

Iwaizumi allowed himself one tear, still holding the cold body to his chest. It hurt him deeply, in a way he couldn’t quite word. It was more than an ache- it was all consuming, the rage, the emptiness, the unjustness of it all; deep down he knew that none of these men wanted to fight, especially not Kindaichi. He recalled how scared the young man was, the uncertain and ungainly way he held his weapon, and yet how determined he was to prove himself and stand with Seijoh. And in doing so, he lost his life. 

Iwaizumi touched foreheads with Kindaichi, and lay him back down gently in the dirt. “I’ll come back for you. May your soul find peace.”

Standing and brushing the dirt off his knees, Hajime wiped his eyes, and let out a long, steady breath. This had to end, and it had to end now.   
He ran with a purpose, storming through the grass and mud, dodging swords and arrows as he moved, adrenaline flowing through his veins. No more deaths. He used his sword only to block, not to hit, and grunted as he fended off more attacks.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure people knew what they were doing anymore; they seemed to attack everyone, even each other, like animals driven by the fear of losing their own lives, or perhaps the threat of Ushijima breathing down their necks. Hajime ran until his lungs burned with the need to breathe, his legs aching in protest, until every slither of air that he gulped in felt like fire. He ran until he couldn’t anymore. Until he saw it, that head of flaming red hair. 

“Tendou,” he said breathily, but loud enough to be heard. 

The redhead turned around leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. Dead bodies surrounded him, and Hajime’s face soured as he spotted a soldier in Karasuno armour- a tall, muscled man with a bald head. He recalled seeing the man earlier in the day, loud as a foghorn, his energy overwhelming. Now, he ceased to exist. Satori caught Hajime’s eye, smiling. 

“I killed him in front of the little one he was so fond of. The one with the spiky hair, do you know him?”

Hajime spat at Tendou’s feet. “Fuck you.”

A dangerous glint flashed in Tendou’s eyes, light sunlight bouncing off a blade. “I told you, I’ll kill every single one of them. I’d even kill your precious King, if that weren’t Ushijima’s fight.”

Fire burned in Iwaizumi’s blood, and his mouth twisted into a sneer as he stepped closer, sword rising. “You couldn’t even mark him if you tried. You’re too weak.”

“Hm, for him maybe,” Tendou mused before smiling. “But not for you.”

That was the only warning Hajime got before Tendou’s sword came swinging towards him. He fought with all the ferocity he could muster, the same heart ache that seemed to weigh down his bones pushing him forward, forcing him to keep going; if he could not fight for himself, he would fight for those he had lost- Kenma, Kindaichi, Lev, the hundreds of others whose name he did not know. 

Iwaizumi grunted and swung at Tendou, sending the redhead back a few paces. “I will kill you.”

“You’ll die trying.”

“So be it.”

They began to fight again, circling each other like prey, the only sound in Hajime’s ears the quick heavy breaths from his own desperate lungs. Everything inside him hurt, and he was acutely aware of the ache in his wounds, the blood dripping down his arm and his leg, the way his arms trembled as they kept hold of the heavy sword, and yet, he could not stop. As if on autopilot, he kept swinging, kept attacking and jabbing and dodging, relentlessly. 

Satori looked angry, his face contorting. “You just don’t give up, do you?”

Instead of answering, Hajime charged him, teeth bared. 

As he raised his sword, he heard a whistle by his ear, ever so faint, and then a dull thud. He caught Satori’s eye, and the two of them looked down at Tendou’s chest, and the large arrow which stuck out of it. 

Satori growled, and yanked the arrow out, a sneer on his face. “You missed my heart, Akaashi.”

The delicate soldier emerged from the chaos, taking his stance by Iwaizumi’s side. His face was blood splattered, and calm, but Hajime could see fire in those carefully guarded eyes. 

“I never miss. I’m not going to kill you.”

Blood poured down Tendou’s chest, and he lifted his sword. “Then you’ve made a mistake.”

He charged them, jaw unhinged as he screamed, like a rabid animal. Perhaps driven by madness, or the threat of his own demise, Tendou screamed and swung at them, his already wide eyes even more focused, his pupils darting about rapidly. Before his sword could land, Iwaizumi saw a figure emerge from behind the red head, his golden eyes narrowed in rage. 

All it took was one swipe. 

One swipe, and Tendou’s head was on the ground, rolling away from his body. 

Akaashi bent down, and with one gentle sweep, grabbed a fistfull of Tendou’s hair, and lifted the disembodied head up to eye level. “I said _I _wouldn’t kill you. He wanted to.”__

__Bokuto sheathed his sword, standing before Hajime. The Seijoh soldier felt his jaw slacken as he eyes up the Fukurodani King- he had heard from Kuroo what type of man Bokuto was, but nothing could have prepared him for the man he was looking at. Gone was any trace of goofiness or petulance; the King stood incredibly tall and wide, his body filling out every inch of his armour, and his incredible contrasting hair was slicked back off his face, offering no protection from the captivating golden gaze he found himself meeting._ _

__Hajime dropped to his knee. “My Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you.”_ _

__Bokuto smiled, and it was as if the illusion was broken. His smile was wide and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Oh, I like him, Akaashi!”_ _

__Keiji sighed and discarded the head. “Iwaizumi-san, meet Bokuto Koutarou, King of Fukurodani.”_ _

__Bokuto nodded, and Hajime rose._ _

__Hajime bent his head. “Thank you for saving our lives.”_ _

__“Akaashi told me what happened,” he said simply, walking up to the quiet man. “Are you hurt, my love?”_ _

__Iwaizumi’s eyebrow quirked. My love?_ _

__Keiji wrapped a hand around Bokuto’s wrist. “I’m okay.”_ _

__The two men bumped their foreheads together lightly, and then Bokuto caught Hajime’s eye with that intense stare._ _

__“What are your next moves?”_ _

__Hajime stooped to pick up Tendou’s head, staring at the slack expression in disgust. “I’ve had enough. I want to end this now. Will you stand with me?”  
Bokuto smiled. “Fukurodani is on your side. We won’t succumb to Shiratorizawa, not any more.”_ _

__“Well then,” Hajime murmured, beginning to walk, “let’s go.”_ _


	35. 35

When Iwaizumi’s eyes landed on Oikawa, he felt his heart stutter. His King looked so powerful, so regal, engaged in battle with Uhsijima. Hajime knew how much Oikawa’s body must hurt, how much strain he had out on it fighting Ushijima for hours, and yet Oikawa didn’t let it show. He stood tall, light on his feet, his sword an extension of himself. 

Bokuto called out, his booming voice carrying over the fields effortlessly. “USHIJIMA!”

The Shiratorizawa leader looked up, his eyes narrowed. He lifted his head, both Oikawa and he breathing heavily as they lowered their weapons. As they walked closer, Hajime caught Oikawa’s eyes, and he could see the glint in them as Oikawa’s eyes raked over his body, surveying his injuries. 

Ushijima’s voice was calculating. “So, you’ve captured the King’s mouthy knight?”

Bokuto flung his arm forward, and with it, Tendou’s head. It rolled unceremoniously on the grass, landing at Ushijima’s feet. His voice was loud and clear, no doubt in it at all. “Fukurodani fights no more.”

“What?” Ushjima didn’t exactly exclaim, but his voice raised, thick eyebrows furrowed together as he studied the slack pale face of his former soldier. He looked a little lost, if only for a second, and briefly, Hajime wondered if Ushijima were capable of caring for his men, or if their death affected him. But then, Ushijima’s face was schooled perfectly back into place. “You’re bound by contract. Refuse to fight for me and I’ll kill you all.”

“Nekoma stands down also,” a loud albeit tired voice said.

Kuroo walked up beside them, armour stained with Kenma’s blood still. The King’s face looked sunken and grey, his eyes red and puffy, and hard deep lines framed his eyes and mouth, like the crinkles in worn leather. He looked ten years older, Hajime thought. 

“I will not have my men cause any more death this day.”

Bokuto agreed. “Enough blood has been spilled. I’m ordering my army to withdraw.”

“Nekoma, withdraw!” 

By now, the last remaining soldiers had begun to gather around them, whispers spreading among them like wildfire. Slowly, swords began to be sheathed, weapons lowered, and a blanket of uncertainty hung in the air like a choking fog. 

“Karasuno withdraws from the fight.”

Kageyama’s armour was covered in blood, but apart from some gashes on his arm, the King looked relatively unharmed. His chest heaved with raspy breaths, and at his side stood Hinata, his face pale and drawn. He looked queasy and exhausted. 

“A-and Us. Johzenji withdraws.”

Ushijima whipped his head round in shock at the emerging figure. “You dare to go against me?”

“My Kingdom has lost too many good men fighting for you,” shouted the man, spittle flying from his lips, “and I won’t stand by and let another die! 

Oikawa’s voice was a light breeze, but his words were sharp and cutting. “Well, Ushijima, it seems all your alliances have withdrawn. It’s just you now.”

“Shiratorizawa against Seijoh,” replied the tall man, his bronze hair fluttering in the breeze. “How fitting.”

“No,” Oikawa corrected, “You against me. I won't have our men fight our battles anymore. This is between us, nobody else.”

Ushijima considered this, surveying the groups of injured and tired soldiers that surrounded him, the ground soaked with blood and littered with the dead. He lifted his chin, staring at Oikawa defiantly. “Very well, then. A fight to the death.”

“May the best man win.”

“He will.” Ushijima promised. 

The clash of their swords pierced through the haze around Iwaizumi, and he jumped. He felt itchy, uncomfortable, just watching the two Kings fight- it felt wrong to stand and watch like a stranger, when the love of his life was fighting to stay alive, fighting for his whole Kingdom to stay alive. He should be beside him, taking down Ushijima together, after all- he’d always been there for Oikawa; every scary moment, every obstacle, everything that had ever been thrown his way, Iwaizumi had stood at Tooru’s side unfalteringly, because that was just where he was meant to be. 

He saw it happen in the space of a second. 

Oikawa’s footing slipped on the wet ground, and his knee twisted as he dropped, a harsh cry pulled from the King’s lips. Ushijima’s sword came down, headed straight for Tooru’s head. 

With a deafening clash, Wakatoshi’s sword smashed into his own instead, with such force the metal cracked. Iwaizumi was heaving, his body shielding Oikawa’s arms trembling as he grunted and shook Ushijima’s sword off. 

“Hajime!” Oikawa yelled, trying to scramble to his feet. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Saving your life,” he said simply. “You won’t die here, not tonight. I won’t let you.”

Ushijima’s lip curled. “You dare to fight me? This is between Oikawa and I. I will give you one chance to move, now.”

Hajime stayed put. “You don’t scare me.”

Ushijima grunted and swung his sword, coming at Iwaizumi full force. Immediately, Hajime had a wave of appreciation for Oikawa- Ushijima was insanely strong, even now after hours of fighting. His swings were powerful carrying the full weight of his body behind them, and Hajime’s hands struggled to keep a hold of his sword as he blocked and parried. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight him for long with how fatigued his muscles were, practically screaming at him with every move he made, but he had to try. Oikawa needed him. 

That was all that ever really mattered. 

“Hajime!” Oikawa called, now on his feet. Although wobbly, he ambled over, his teeth bared and sword in his hand. “Don’t you fucking touch him, Ushijima!”

Oikawa must have stepped on something, because his foot slipped again, and he cried out in agony as his knee bent. Iwaizumi heard the thud of his lover’s weight hit the ground, and he whipped his head around, eyes wide. 

“Tooru! Are you okay?”

“Hajime, no-!”

It was too late. 

Ushijima’s arm wrapped around Hajime’s chest and pulled him flat against the taller man, one hand snaked around his waist and the other holding a sword point right at the column of his throat.   
He could feel Ushijima’s chest rise with every breath, the coolness of the blade startling apparent as it touched against his skin. 

Ushijima spoke steadily. “Surrender, or he dies.”

“Oikawa, don’t!” Hajime yelled, locking eyes with Oikawa. 

The King pulled himself back up to a stance, using his sword as a stick to lean on. His injured leg hovered above the ground. The King looked back at Iwaizumi, his eyes wide and wet, lip trembling. 

“Hajime, I….”

“Tooru, don’t you fucking dare.” He said, intensity packed behind every word. “Don’t do it. You’ve come too far.”

“I’ll spare him if you hand Seijoh to me,” Ushijima said again, lifting the blade from Hajime’s neck, and placing the tip right at his heart instead. “Refuse, and he dies. Then, so will you. Face it, you can’t beat me whilst injured. At least this way, he lives. I’m doing you a kindness.”

Oikawa looked torn, tears beginning to spill over his cheeks. He shook his head, and all at once, Hajime no longer saw a King- he saw a scared little boy, the same boy who would shriek at bugs, who would cower from his father, who would clutch Hajime’s hand like it was the only thing that tethered him to this world.

“Hajime, I...there’s nothing I can do.” Oikawa cried, looking defeated. “I can’t fight him on my own. I can’t kill him.”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his vision was distinctly more blurry, but he smiled sweetly at Oikawa, a smile he normally reserved for when they were in private. He looked at the man he loved, and spoke: “I know you can’t. But I can.”

Before anyone could register his words, Hajime grabbed the hilt of the sword and, with the last of his strength, thrust it through his own chest, and right into Ushijima’s. 

Blood began to pour rapidly, and at first there was silence.

Then, the screaming. 

“HAJIME!” 

Oikawa screamed, his voice raw and piercing. He scrambled over to them, a soundless screech leaving his lips as Hajime pulled the sword out, and their bodies sank to the ground. 

Ushijima sat in shock, watching the blood pour out his own chest, staring at his marred flesh with a twisted curiosity. He met Iwaizumi’s eye, his voice quiet. “You stabbed me.”

“Sorry.”

Iwaizumi felt two soft hands cup his face, and he winced as Oikawa sobbed, his chest heaving. 

“You idiot! What did you do?”

“Tooru, it’s okay. You’re okay. Seijoh is safe.”

Oikawa’s hands drifted to his chest, desperately pressing against the wound, his face paling when deep crimson flooded over his skin. “We- we need to move you, we need to get you to the medical bay-”

“Oikawa, stop-”

“Somebody get a physician! NOW!”

“Oikawa-”

“Don’t you worry, Iwa-chan, you’ll be fine, don’t worry-”

“Tooru,” Hajime said softly. 

Oikawa stopped, his lip trembling as he caught it between his teeth, eyes spilling over with tears. 

“You know a physician can’t save me,” Hajime said quietly, lifting his hand to wrap it around Tooru’s. “I’m going to die.”

Oikawa lurched, raising a hand to his mouth as if to throw up. He shook his head vehemently, rejecting Hajime’s words. “No, don’t say that. Don’t you dare fucking say that. You are not dying-”

“I am,” he said calmly, aware of a weakness spreading throughout his limbs. He felt his strength sap away, and he let out a long sigh. “But it’s okay. You know why?”

Oikawa said nothing, instead pulling Hajime onto his lap. 

“Because I died for you. And you’re the only person on earth that I would do that for,” Hajime chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “I love you so much, Tooru. I don’t regret a single thing.”

“Hajime, I...I can’t, I can’t do this without you,” he whispered, resting their foreheads together. “I’m nothing without you.”

“Tooru,” Hajime said seriously, “Don't ever speak like that. You are the bravest, strongest, and most talented man I have ever met. You’re a brilliant King, and...and you shine like the sun, and when you smile...I…”

The King sobbed loudly, a shaky smile on his lips. He cradled Iwaizumi’s face, hushing him. “Shh, don’t let anybody hear you be nice to me, Iwa-chan.”

Grinning, Hajime tilted his head up. He knew he didn’t have long left, the corners of his vision beginning to blur. “Let them hear it. I love you, Tooru. Nothing will ever change that- not even death.”

Tooru simply sobbed, loud painful cries that wracked his body. 

"Open my pouch," Hajime said quietly, his breathing laboured, "the one on my belt."

"W-what?"

"Do it, quickly."

Oikawa complied, his shaking hands struggling to open the pouch. He pulled the strings free, and moments later, lifted a ring into the air. The brunette looked at it, his eyes wide and red rimmed. "Hajime..."

"Mother gave it to me...to give to the one I loved," he smiled, wheezing as he plucked the ring from Tooru's hand. "And I made you a promise, didn't I? So, Oikawa Tooru, will you marry me?"

Tooru squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Iwaizumi's body tightly. He made no noise but shook, tremors raking his whole body, catching his voice every time he tried to speak. He lifted his hand instead, and slowly, delicately, with the last of his strength, Hajime slipped the ring on Tooru's finger. 

He exhaled, lifting his palm to Oikawa's cheek. "My husband."

"My husband," the brunette parroted, his voice a whisper. 

Oikawa leaned down and locked their lips together, sharing one last salty kiss, his body shaking uncontrollably as Hajime’s hand slackened, sliding down his face before letting go completely, landing in the mud. Oikawa hunched over Hajime's body, his wails piercing the silent air; deep mournful cries that shook the core of the earth itself, the wind carrying the notes of his lament across the land to every living thing. It was haunting, the way his soul seemed to crack; the shards jagged and raw, like the remnants of a mirror after a hurricane. 

There was no denying it:

Iwaizumi Hajime was dead.


	36. 36

“We lost some amazing men at war,” Tooru said loudly, standing before his subjects. He leaned heavily against his crutch, his leg bandaged. His body was covered in scraped and cuts, the worst of which had scarred, leaving a marbled pink splash on his skin, waxy and tight. They stood at the lake, the space crowded with not only Seijoh men, but Fukurodani, Nekoma and Karasuno men, too, and the air carried a hint of the sea, fresh and crisp. It was a mash-up of colours and faces, old and new, and yet every single pair of eyes was on him as he spoke. 

“And we will never forget them. They laid down their lives to bring us victory against Shiratorizawa, and without them, we wouldn’t be able to sit here with each other today.”

Nobody made a sound as Oikawa spoke. He locked eyes with all of them in turn, a sad smile on his lips. He looked across the crowd, staring at the faces of his friends: Daichi, who sat in a wheelchair that Oikawa had had specially made for him, his amputated leg bandaged up tightly; Suga, who stood behind him, pale cherubic face steeled in mourning, his silver hair gleaming under the weak sun; Matsukawa and Hanamaki, their eyes red rimmed as they leaned against each other.

“Today, we honour our dead. We remember the sacrifice they gave, for there is none greater than that of your own life. I am blessed to have such men fighting for this Kingdom.”

Oikawa remembered every single one of them, every face, every person who’d went onto that field to fight for him, and the sheer amount of deaths made his stomach churn- they made have won, but the loses were catastrophic. He met eyes with Nekoma’s King. 

“King Kuroo, if you would?”

Kuroo stood, his face drawn tight. Deep dark bags sat under his eyes, and his hair was limp and unwashed. It made him look so much smaller, his large frame drawn in on himself as he hunched. Still, he cleared his throat. “I lost two amazing men to Ushijima’s forces. Their effort will not be forgotten, nor will their presence and impact upon my life. Haiba Lev, rest in peace. Kenma Kozume...you have my heart. Take care of it- I’ll come back for it one day.”

Kuroo sat down, seemingly exhausted, and Yaku stood up, looking equally as devastated. He recited off the rest of the names, voice strong despite his clenched fists. 

Once he sat, Oikawa gestured to Kageyama. 

“War is never easy,” he began, voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “but it is necessary. Without the brave men who stood for Karasuno, who fought for our freedom, the battle with Shiratorizawa would have turned out far differently. We lost some great men..." Kageyama looked at Yuu, whose quiet sobs were growing. "But we were so lucky to fight alongside such selfless, courageous people. Karasuno will never forget the lives lost."

Oikawa allowed for a slight applause, and began speaking once again. 

“There is one man that we all owe our lives to, and that man is Iwaizumi Hajime,” he said, voice cracking ever so slightly. “Iwaizumi Hajime was the best man I have ever known my whole life. I loved him as one would a best friend, a brother, as one would...a lover. Hajime was family to me. No- more than that. Hajime was the entire world to me, and he is entirely responsible for shaping me into the man I am today. He was always there to guide me, to comfort me, to encourage me and believe in me, and to love me. Nobody knows me the way Iwa-chan does.” 

Oikawa’s lips quirked in a slight smile, his eyes glazed over. His thumb rubbed over the cool metal of his engagement ring, a deep resounding pang of loneliness resonating in his chest. “And I know in my heart that there is nobody on this earth I will love the way I love him. If everyone in the world had a little of Hajime’s patience, of his kindness, of his unyielding selflessness, then this earth would be a better place. Hajime gave his life that night to save every single one of you. He protected not only the Kingdom of Seijoh, but of Fukurodani, Nekoma, Karasuno, Johzenji. The whole of Japan is indebted to him.”

Suga began to sob, his fingers clutching Daichi's, his free hand stuffed into his mouth to muffle the noise.

“So, I ask you this: remember his name. Keep him alive in your thoughts, in your prayers, tell your children and your children’s children of him- tell the whole world the legend of Iwaizumi Hajime; Japan’s bravest knight.”

Oikawa, Hanamaki and Matsukawa gently walked to the raft where Hajime’s body lay, perfectly still. He had been cleaned and changed by Oikawa’s hands alone, and surrounding his body was as many flowers as Oikawa could fit- a piece of everything in the garden, encasing Iwaizumi’s dark skin and spiky hair like an ornate frame. He looked so beautiful, his face relaxed from the usual frown Oikawa had gotten so used to, and he couldn't refrain from letting his fingertips drifting across Hajime's cheekbone. The skin was cold to the touch, and Tooru had to hold back a sob, his eyes welling up with tears. 

Gently, he leaned down and kissed Hajime’s forehead, his lips lingering. 

“Till we meet again, my love,” he whispered, before pushing the raft out. 

The gentle waves lapped around Hajime's ankles, and then his knees, until he was up to his waist in the cold water. His knee ached, and he could feel Matsukawa's strong arm holding him up, but he couldn't focus on anyone else but Hajime. With a deep stuttering breath, Tooru pushed the raft forward, and the waves carried Iwaizumi’s body further away, out of reach from Oikawa’s yearning hands. 

The brunette’s lip quivered as he slowly made his way back to the land, every step away from Iwaizumi shattering his heart even more. He raised a hand. “Akaashi.”

Keiji lifted his bow and arrow, the tip of which was on fire. Carefully, he pulled back the string, and then, with one flick of the finger, sent it soaring. 

It landed perfectly, and a hungry flame engulfed Iwaizumi’s raft, smoke drifting high into the sky. 

Oikawa watched in silence as the last of Hajime burned away, becoming dust in the breeze. He felt a pressure on his hand and looked down to see Matsukawa holding onto him, eyes wet with tears. Sniffing, he squeezed back, and then Hanamaki’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. 

“He loved you so much, you know,” Matsukwa said. “Anyone could see it. He never could hide the look on his face whenever he saw you.”

Oikawa gave a half smile. “I know. I loved him too.”

“He would have made a fine King.” Hanamaki said. 

“He still will,” Tooru murmured in reply, lifting a hand to his heart, “he’s with me in everything I do. He rules over Seijoh with me.”

“Hm,” Matsukawa chuckled. “Then we’re in good hands.”

“The best.”


	37. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is finally it. I have been writing this fic for over a year, and uploaded it all here in the space of two days, but i hope you enjoyed it and found it to be a good read! I had a lot of emotion writing this, and honestly I am very proud of it. Its one of my largest works yet, so seeing it end is bittersweet. 
> 
> thankyou so much for reading x

Oikawa lay in his bed, a cough rattling his frail lungs. He wheezed and spluttered, slumping back against his pillow with a groan. He looked at his hands, lips twisting in bemusement- he remembered when they were youthful and strong, not wrinkled and dotted with liver spots. 

A glass of water was lifted to his lips. “Drink, Father.”

A young man stared back at him, with thick chestnut hair and hazel eyes. Oikawa smiled, and touched the boy’s face. 

“Thank you, Hajime, but I’m okay.”

“You’re not, you’re dying.”

The man looked distressed, and Tooru chuckled, squeezing his hand. “That doesn’t mean I’m not okay. All living things die, Hajime, that’s the way of life.”

“But...I don’t want you to go, Father. I’m not ready to be King. I won't be nearly as good as you.”

Oikawa frowned, pushing a lock of grey hair from his eyes. “Don’t say such nonsense.”

“Sorry, Father.”

Hajime looked dejected, and Oikawa tapped him on the chin. “Hey, do you know how I know you’re going to be great?”

“How?”

“Because you’re named after the best man I ever knew. You carry a piece of him with you, just as I do. And with him on your side, there’s no way you can fail.”

“You really think he’ll be looking out for me?” Hajime asked earnestly. 

“Oh, I know it.”

Tooru smiled, and then another cough wracked his body, pain shooting through his lungs. He grimaced in discomfort, squeezing his eyes shut tight. His breaths were raspy, barely enough oxygen in each one. 

“Father?”

Oikawa cracked an eye open. “I’m tired, son. I think I shall sleep.”

“Okay,” the boy said, squeezing his father’s hand in his before resting back in the chair beside him. “I shall be here when you wake up.”

“You’re a good boy, Hajime.” Tooru murmured, his eyes closing. “I love you.”  
“I love you, too. Now, sleep.”

****

When his eyes opened, Oikawa found himself in the palace gardens, the sun shining down on him. He looked around, and saw the figure of a man in the distance, by the koi pond. As if on autopilot, he walked towards him, then jogged, until he was in a full scale sprint. He crashed into him, feeling the familiar pair of arms wrapping around him once again. 

“Took you long enough,” Hajime murmured in a gruff voice, smiling gently. “I’ve missed you.”

Tooru smiled so wide he felt as though his face would split in two. He kissed Hajime passionately, drinking in his warmth, his essence, before pulling back, intertwining their fingers. “I’m here now.”

“Yeah,” Hajime said, grinning freely, “you are.”


End file.
